Shadows
by infinite shadow
Summary: Sequel to Renovations. Dean never showed up at Bobby’s to recover and after gruelling months of hunting the Winchesters arrive to help Bobby with a case. With another hunt gone bad things start to fall apart. Can Bobby help put the pieces back together?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for betaing and just being there for me over the last several months. Without your support I swear I would seriously be climbing the walls. So really, thank you.

This was supposed to be a one shot follow up after Renovations. It was supposed to be simple. Dean working out a little stress and feeling a little dejected at being left at Bobby's without Sam. However it got a mind of its own and it morphed into monster of its own. That said, as this is a sequel, it would be helpful to read Renovations first before reading this story.

There are some darker themes in this story that I've not written before. My own life has been extremely stressful over the last several months with health issues and when I was able to actually write properly again this is how I was dealing with it. It's not meant to offend but if abuse and blood rituals are not your thing please back out now. There is nothing overly graphic but I'm just trying to give fair warning.

If you are still with me please enjoy the story. This story has been completed and beta'd. It will be posted once a week until all fifteen chapters and the epilogue has been posted. Please let me know what you think of the story.

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 1

Walking. He was walking, stalking, glaring at everything around him, his hands clenched at his sides. A young pup, as Uncle Bobby would say, right at his heels. His emotions were churning dangerously and he needed to get a handle on them before he did or said something stupid.

Orders had been barked at him just before he'd slammed the door and stomped down the steps. The walls had been closing in and he'd had to escape. Hesitation at the bottom of the steps before a flare of gut wrenching anger shoved him off, told him the order was not needed. There's no way he would walk too far away. Not with Sammy...

He broke into a run and tried to ignore the barks of glee at his side. Shadow was his favourite dog at Uncle Bobby's. Stupid dog would follow him all around the salvage yard, and if he managed to get out of the house undetected by the dog, Shadow would come across him within five minutes of being outside.

Today though, the company was not welcome.

He needed space, a little time to be alone to sort out the screaming, gun shots and just what the hell had happened on the last hunt, or more correctly, what had happened on all the hunts since staying at Pastor Jim's.

The signs from the blood poisoning and broken ankle were all but gone. The physical wounds had left nothing but two bright pink scars – one over his ankle bone the other on his arm. He looked fine, and it took almost all of his energy to make it look like he was ok.

Realistically it was light years away from the truth because he still hurt. Not that he would admit that to anyone, least of all himself. But there were times when he caught himself straining to breathe, almost as if the breathing tube was still stuck down his throat. He still felt weak in his leg and in his arm. Fear fueled his nightmares that tore him from sleep and tormented him even in the light of day.

He wasn't the only one having nightmares though. Sam was having far more than his fair share. Every night they'd go to sleep in their own beds. Sometime during the night he'd wake to Sam burrowing himself next to him, shaking and holding onto him for dear life. Truth was he didn't mind. Having his little brother beside him seemed to keep his own nightmares at bay.

Dad hadn't commented about it, even though it seemed to annoy him. He stopped asking for a pull out at the motels they stayed in, just ordered the boys to share a bed. It was really starting to piss Dean off. He was sixteen and shouldn't have to share a bed with his little brother.

He supposed it really made him mad because having his little brother reacting this way made him feel needed, or even wanted. But they weren't five and nine years old anymore. Sam was old enough to look after himself, even in the middle of the night.

With a shake of his head he pushed himself to run harder. He was exhausted all the time and the only way he was going to get better was to get stronger physically. That wouldn't happen by a short light jog.

His legs pumped with a smooth grace and he felt each strike of his feet on the ground. His foot burned around where the break had originally been and phantom pain shot up his arm where the blood poisoning had taken hold as his arms pumped in motion matching his strides. He wouldn't give up the harsh pace; he couldn't let the pain win.

Running usually helped settle him, an almost natural occurrence after running so many laps around different motels and running tracks over the years. This time was no different. But settling made him relax, made his mind wander slightly. Before he knew it he could hear screaming, see flashes of different hunts, different fights, and felt himself trip and go down hard onto his shins.

He stayed down for only a moment, until a cold nose pushed into his face. Pushing Shadow back he got up with a strangled cry and forced himself to run.

As he heard his little brother scream in his head again he moved from a fast run to an all out sprint. Dean gasped for air as he ran he brutally pushed himself trying to blank out the sounds and images from his mind.

He'd done almost six laps around Bobby's large salvage property before he stumbled to a halt near the back of the yard, panting hard. Damn near dead on the spot where he and Sammy had a fort when they were younger.

The semi-safe structure was long gone. It had partially collapsed on him one afternoon while he'd been climbing around on it like it was some kind of jungle gym. He'd landed hard, heavy metal pieces came down around him pinning him to the ground. While he hadn't been totally buried it had been painful and uncomfortable. It was after when he'd tried to stand up that he realized it wasn't the metal holding him down that made it hard to breathe. It was the rib he broke on the sudden hard stop on the compact ground of the salvage yard that was the problem. There had been promises of building a new stable fort from Bobby that John had immediately nixed.

_Bastard._

The dark thought had him stunned and confused. He loved his father. Dad would do anything to protect him and his little brother.

Only he hadn't. The asshole had left him in a horrific hole of a house, unprotected and completely alone. Safe from demonic and supernatural entities they hunted, but vulnerable to anything and everything else. He'd almost di… It'd been so close. How could he… How…

Dean hunched over with his throat closing up, gasping for breath as a stitch tore at him in his side. His eyes burned with unshed tears. Clenching his teeth against all of the raging emotions he grabbed a large rock off the ground and heaved it as far as it could go with a gut wrenching cry.

Shadow barked and wagged her tail as she bounded off in the direction Dean had thrown the rock.

He panted heavily and impatiently scrubbed a hand over his face. Hating the few tears that had broken lose and trickled down his cheeks. "Shadow!" Dean ground out stopping the lovable mutt from chasing after the stone.

Instantly Shadow stopped and trotted back to the teen as Dean bent over. The stitch in his side overrode his anger and he dropped to a knee.

Shadow sniffed at the teen. She pushed her nose into his hand at his side then moved up to lick Dean's face.

"Hey girl," Dean said gruffly and just took a minute to run his hand down her back. He let the gentle motion calm him slightly and he just took a moment to look at the dog. He didn't get it, he really didn't. Most people and animals gravitated towards Sam or his father, but Shadow never had.

Dean's lips twitched into a slight smile and remembered when Bobby had asked him to name her. When he'd suggested Shadow it seemed fitting. When she'd first come to them she'd hideaway in them, and when she'd been comfortable enough she was always in Dean's.

_They'd been here at the salvage yard when Bobby had brought her home, the last of a family that hadn't survived a ghoul attack. Bobby figured she'd been a little over a year old, unsteady and untrusting. _

_She would hide under furniture or car parts and would push as far back as she could if anyone tried to coax her out until Dean tried. _

_Originally he hadn't done much. He just sat himself next to the old coffee table on the floor and put a plate down next to him. With a glance under the table he met her eyes. "For you girl, when you're ready," he'd said softly. _

_He stayed there for hours doing homework, watching TV. Every once in a while he'd toss in a piece of food to her and talk to her. By the end of the day she had crept out enough to be seen, and be in hand's reach, but Dean never reached out to her. He waited and told anyone that came close to entering the room to get lost. By the time Dean was ready to head for bed that night Shadow whined when he stood up._

_Dean smiled down at her and patted his leg. "Well? You coming with me or what, girl?" He asked softly and waited. He was a little disappointed when she crawled back to the corner of the room safely out of touch from everyone._

"_S'all right girl. See you in the morning," he said quietly and headed off to bed. _

_When he'd gotten up in the morning he found her curled up in his shirt he'd worn the day before on the closet floor. She whined when he'd approached and he knelt down to her level careful to not spook her._

_Her head hovered a mere inch above the floor, her ears plastered all the way back and her tail wagged hesitantly. Hopeful and afraid all in the same moment._

"_Well there you are," he said giving her a bright smile even though he was still half asleep. "Will you let me pet you?"_

_She whined again and crawled an inch towards him._

_Dean lay down on his chest so they were eye level. _

_The, as of yet unnamed dog, tilted her head in confusion at him._

_He put his hand forward on the floor close to her paw. Careful not to touch, but offering at the same time._

_She sniffed carefully at his hand then gave it a lick. Her head lifted slightly and her whole body shook as she whined. She sat up and began moving back into a dark corner of the closet._

"_Hey now you don't need to go back in there," Dean said softly as he tapped the floor softy with his hand. "Come on out here."_

_She stopped and looked at him. Cautiously she lay back down before crawling back out towards him._

"_That a girl," Dean coaxed softly. "Come on. You can do it."_

_Then he face to face with a scared dog who was intent on licking the life out of his face. "Ok. Ok," he said and couldn't help but laugh. He gently ran his hand down her back and frowned as he felt bumps and ridges that shouldn't be there._

"_You're far too thin," he mumbled as he ran his hand over her ribs again._

_She'd disappear constantly around the yard and in the house. It was always Dean that would be able to find her and coax her out of her hiding places. Soon all he had to do was call her name and she was there almost instantaneously._

_After that the dog would only let Dean near her, feed her, pet her and she snapped at everyone else. She followed him everywhere he went and followed every command he taught her. Eventually she got around to trusting Bobby, John and Sammy._

He pushed Shadow's nose away, slowly stood up and started walking in the direction of the house when she growled.

He turned and looked back over his shoulder at the dog. "What is it?" Dean asked softly as he turned back and put a hand onto the dogs back.

She growled again, shifting her stance slightly, and baring her teeth.

Dean glanced around the stacks of twisted and wrecked vehicles. It was a metal graveyard of cars and hiding places for anyone or anything waiting to pounce and attack him. Even though that was true of everywhere, it was creepier in a place he normally felt safe.

And the only protection he had was Shadow and his wits. His personal defenses seemed to be on the fritz as he had let something or someone get the drop on him, cornering him in the back of the salvage yard.

Fleetingly he thought that Dad or Bobby were playing a trick on him but quickly dismissed it. Not after what had happened on the last hunt.

"Hello?" Dean called out uncertain, even more so when Shadow whined and shook slightly.

The silence seemed to echo around him. The sun was half way down towards the horizon. A slight breeze came up making him shiver.

Shapes began to grow and stretch on the ground. He drew a shaky breath as he was momentarily frozen by fear. He was alone, again. Dad, Bobby and Sammy were safely tucked away in the house on the other side of the maze of towers of cars and parts that snaked around the salvage yard.

He jumped as Shadow growled and barked. He silently and angrily reprimanded himself for being so foolish, reminding himself that nothing supernatural could be there. Bobby had umpteen dozen wards littering the yard of more sorts than he could imagine, and he could imagine plenty. This was different. It had to be a human.

The mere thought sent a spike of terror down his back and he crouched next to the dog. Taking a moment to scan the area he petted the dog, calming himself so he could deal with the situation, if there even was one.

Shadow growled, whined and bared her teeth, seemingly all at the same time. Then her hackles rose under his hand and the dog's body braced for something as another growl merged into a menacing snarling bark.

"Want to play," a voice said softly.

His heart lurched and his stomach dropped away as he straightened up. He couldn't hear enough of a voice to know who was talking, although the way it had a slight echo to it meant that it couldn't be human.

"Easy girl," Dean tried to soothe but the dog wouldn't stop barking spiking his own fear.

"Who's out there? Show yourself!" Dean yelled and staggered back two steps as Shadow bumpedinto him knocking him off balance.

The boy regained his stance and saw Shadow standing in front of him. Growling, barking and snapping her jaws menacingly in a never ending run of noise**. **

"DAD!" Dean shouted hoping his voice would carry all the way to the house. As much as he hated to call in the cavalry, he'd be awfully stupid to get Shadow killed just cause he'd not been paying attention.

A shape began to move from the shadows, and part of Dean hoped it was his father, but he knew it wasn't.

A slow agonized breath floated out towards him sending goose bumps over his skin.

"What are you?" Dean demanded moving to stand next to the dog shivering as he thought he recognized it.

There was an echoing soft laugh but no answer.

The teen watched as the shadow shifted and moved closer. He was almost transfixed at the moving form until Shadow bumped into him again and took a step forward. The barking escalated as Dean grabbed her collar.

"We have unfinished business," the form whispered.

"What business," Dean snapped. "Crazy bitch."

"The anger. The fear," the shadow gasped. "Yes. Yes. You understand now."

Shadow lunged forward barking, snarling, and was brought back sharply as Dean held firm on the collar. His arm burned as he held onto the dog with all his strength. Sammy had been hurt today because of him, he wasn't about to let the dog get hurt too. Not if he could help it.

There had to be something he could fight back with. He kept his focus on the entity in front of him while he looked around the area trying to see anything that could help him.

"You cannot fight me," the shadow wheezed as it quickly moved forward.

Shadow's collar was torn from his hands and the dog was thrown across the yard.

"NO!" Dean screamed as he remembered the hunt they'd just returned from. He thought he'd seen two forms but they'd only put down one before he'd snatched Sammy away from the second one and they tumbled down an embankment.

"You may have killed me, my husband, but I will take you with me," the shadow whispered as it closed the distance.

Dean turned and ran towards the dog. There had to be something, anything to fight this ... this ... thing off with. He dove down next to the dog, one hand reaching for a piece of metal as the other hand landed on Shadow.

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John came out of the boy's room as he wiped his bloodied hands on a cloth. Glancing around the room looking for his oldest son he found Bobby with a beer staring at a game on the TV.

"How's Sam?" Bobby asked as he put the bottle down on the table and stood up.

"He'll be fine," John answered. "Where's Dean?"

"He hasn't come back in since you told him to get some air," Bobby said harshly.

John sighed and tossed the cloth into the kitchen. "He was barely holding in his emotions. Sam needed him..."

"So you tossed him out of the room?"

"Only when Sam passed out. Christ I thought Dean was going to implode. He needed to walk some of it off," John said crossing his arms over his chest.

"Shoulda told me you were gonna do that. I would have gone with him," Bobby said knowing Dean was having a hard time controlling his temper lately. "He shouldn't be alone."

"I know that," John said as he wiped a shaking hand over his face. "But I had to put Sammy first."

"Yeah," Bobby agreed and thought of how the pre teen looked as they'd returned to the salvage yard. How careful John was as he carried the boy in his arms. Blood was everywhere, coating Sam's clothes, on John, even more on Dean and some on himself. He sighed heavily. "I'll go get Dean. He's probably calmed down by now."

"Don't count on it," John shot back. "Got another one of those?"

"In the fridge. Help yourself. I'll go get Dean. Pissed or not," Bobby said as he took a step towards the door.

"Bobby we got them both, right?" John asked momentarily rerunning the hunt in his head.

"Yeah course we did. You got the second thought form just as Dean made the lunge for Sammy," Bobby answered. "But if you want we can go back later and double check."

"No. You're right I did. Just had a weird feeling," John answered then went into the kitchen.

Bobby shook his head slightly at the tone in his friend's voice and went into his yard. He took a moment to listen, and not hearing anything gave out four sharp short whistles.

And waited. Shadow always came when she was called and if she didn't she was either being held back by Dean or was busy protecting something, or someone. He took off his hat and scratched his head slightly. "DEAN!" He shouted waiting only for a moment before heading out into the maze of twisted metal he affectionately thought of as home.

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John went to open the fridge door and stopped. With his hand on the door he leaned forward and rested his head against the freezer door. He could hear both of his children's screams echo though his mind. Sammy in pain, Dean in anger, no more than that, it had been rage.

He turned and walked back into his boy's room and sat down next to his injured son. Remarkably Sammy had only taken about thirty stitches, much less than he thought his youngest would have needed.

There had been so much blood, he wasn't even sure his child, his baby boy, would have survived the attack.

He reached out and placed a hand gently onto Sammy's bandaged head. It wasn't bad enough that his boy had been injured by what they had been hunting, but then he'd fallen down a slope, both boys had, when the ground beneath them gave way.

It was a miracle they were both still here.

"Hey Sammy. You'll be ok," he said softly.

Dazed Sammy's eyes opened just a crack. "Dad?" He asked softly.

"I'm here Little Man," John replied and moved his hand from the bandaged head to a bandaged hand.

Sammy closed his eyes as he tightened his hand around his father's larger one. "Sorry. I'll do better next time. Promise," he whimpered.

"S'all right. Just need more training is all," John said.

"Yeah," he said then his eyes fluttered open and looked around the room. "Dean?"

"He's ok too. Little banged up but ok," John answered.

"Mad at me again," Sammy said as his eyes closed again. He couldn't seem to keep them open.

"No he's not mad at you," John said softly.

"Sure?" Sammy whispered.

"Yeah," John answered. "Get some sleep."

Sammy mumbled something then his breathing evened out.

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Bobby walked through the maze occasionally calling out for Shadow and Dean. Shadow had been a challenge to control and train when he got her, but the pup seemed to be drawn to Dean and would respond easily to the teen's commands. Dean seemed to be drawn to the dog as well.

Often when Bobby got up, Dean was already up and dressed. He'd find the teen sitting on the porch, mug of coffee in one hand and the other tangled in Shadow's fur.

Bobby often thought as much as he liked the mutt, Shadow wasn't his. She had picked Dean as her owner without question. Bobby merely watered and fed her.

Shadow and Dean both seemed to have a calming effect on each other. Bobby didn't mind as it seemed to keep them both out of trouble. This visit though was a little different. Shadow usually stayed outside, but this time she'd whined, barked and scratched half his door down until he'd let her in. Dog went directly to Dean, put her face on his lap and just looked up at him. Bewildered at her sudden arrival Dean had glanced up at Bobby knowing she wasn't allowed in the house. Before he could say anything a slight whine had Dean petting her, gently, and some of the tenseness surrounding the teen just eased away. The mutt had been allowed inside ever since, and would be until their visit was over.

But not getting a response from either of them had Bobby worried and walking faster through the metallic maze.

He hollered again and finally heard a faint response. Shadow's bark sounded so far away, farther than it should have been.

"Dean!" Bobby shouted as he ran towards the soft barking. He skidded to a halt as he came around to a shifting pile of junk where one shouldn't be. He paled sharply and almost fell to his knees. "God, no."

With shaking hands he dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell. He pushed a few buttons and put the phone to his ear. He didn't bother giving the person time to say anything as the call connected. "Get to the back of the yard. Now," he barked out, snapped the device shut and started digging.

"Dean! Shadow!" Bobby yelled as he dug, encouragedby the barking and petrified that the teen wasn't responding.

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As reluctant as John was to leave his youngest son, he made it to the back of the yard in record time. He stood there for a second before he registered the sound from inside as Shadow. Instantly he knew what it meant and felt sick. "Oh God. Bobby what happened?" He asked as he started to pull pieces of junk away from the pile.

"Don't know. Just shut up and help me dig," Bobby snapped back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. No Winchester or animal were hurt in the making of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story.

There's slight swearing and hurt boys in this chapter. Let me know what you think.

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 2

Dean opened his eyes slightly in response to something wet and hot on his cheek. A high pitched whine right next to his ear made him wince. He tried to move away but found he couldn't move.

It was dark and cramped. He was pinned against something sharp and hard on his sides and back. In front of him was something soft with a bad smell. "Ugh."

Shadow whined again and barked once before pushing her nose into Dean's cheek.

"Jeez Hrly. Yur wrz thn Smm," Dean half slurred half huffed in the dark. He tried to shift again and was able to get his arm free. Reaching forward he put a hand on Shadow feeling something sticky and wet. The wound brought him out of his slight fog and focused him on his current predicament. _Crap_.

Shadow whined again and slumped against the teen. She nuzzled her head against Dean's chest and lay still.

"S'ok Shadow. Just hold on," Dean said and tried to feel around him. He was partially buried under a slightly shifting mount of what felt like sharp metal and wood objects. "DAD! BOBBY!" He screamed but it came out muted and soft.

His throat hurt, had for a couple of weeks but he hadn't been hoarse when he'd left the house. Although it wasn't the first time his voice had left him over the past several weeks. As long as he hadn't tried to use it too much it had come back enough that no one had noticed.

The dog flinched under him and he petted her where her fur was soft and dry. A whine and huff, and what the teen thought of as a talking growl came out of her and Dean had to smile.

"Looks like we're stuck here," Dean said softly as he scratched the dog gently behind her ears. "Don't worry though. Dad and Bobby will find us if Sammy's ok."

The dog huffed again.

"If my little brother's not ok and they're still working on him then we wait. Sammy's more important. You know that girl. He's always more important," Dean whispered. "If I hadn't missed then he'd be ok right now."

Shadow whined again.

The pile groaned loudly and shifted dangerously. John and Bobby were yelling as they threw themselves out of the way of tumbling debris.

Dean shivered as he heard loud crashes close by and the ground shook slightly. "Huh. Maybe they're digging us out. Speak girl."

Shadow huffed and struggled to sit up. She panted for a moment before she let out a fury of barks.

Dean awkwardly petted her. "Good girl."

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Bobby looked up from where he'd landed on the ground. Small plumes of dust had kicked up from the pieces of junk that were now strewn all over. He shoved a rusty old fender off his leg and shoved a tire away from his side.

Getting to his feet he looked over the mess of rubble and looked his friend over for injury. John had a slight cut at his hairline that had a small trickle of blood oozing from it. He was shaking a hand slightly before he rubbed it on his jeans.

"You ok?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, fine," John replied absently as he took a small step forward towards the new pile of parts and squinted at something. "You?"

"I'm good," Bobby said and looked over the newly settled junk pile. He sighed softly. Lots of debris came down, but it seemed to only bury Dean and Shadow deeper.

John frowned as he studied the junk. "Bobby you normally check the inventory, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Missed one," John said.

Bobby hurried over to him and gaped for a second at the hand sticking out of the mess. "Well… Hell," he said as he pulled off his hat and scratched his head.

Both men looked up at a different section of the pile as they heard a fast succession of Shadow's barks.

"We're gonna need some lights," Bobby said. "Keep digging. I'll be right back."

John looked up to the dark sky as it turned from dusk into night. Above them clear as day was Dean's favoured constellation of Orion. He looked back to the pile covering his oldest boy and his favourite dog. "Hold on Dean. We're coming. We're coming," John said as he started again to pull off car parts, this time a little more carefully.

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Sammy sat up groggily inside. He frowned as he touched his pounding head surprised to feel something wrapped around it. Pulling his hand away he looked at his hand, also wrapped up, and with a slightly pained look on his face he looked down at his chest. He could feel a tight wrapping around his middle every time he shifted beneath his thin cotton t-shirt. It would explain why he hurt all over.

"You stay put, understand me?" Bobby ordered as he strode into the room.

"Wha-?" Sammy started to ask.

"I don't have time Sam. Stay put. You don't leave that bed until we come back. It's important boy," the salvage yard man said evenly as he sat down next to the injured teen. "Everything's fine. Just lay back down and go back to sleep."

"W- where's Dean?" He asked shakily.

"Your dad and brother are out in the yard helping me with some stuff. Everything's fine but they're worried about you. So just do us all a favour," Bobby started.

"And keep out of the way," Sam said as he looked down at the sheets pooled around his middle. "So I don't screw everything up again?"

"Oh kid not even close," Bobby said gently. "We all want you to get better. Do me a favour and the next time Dean or I yell down you drop?"

"Ok Uncle Bobby," Sam replied softly. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Just get better. Injured or not if you're not in this bed when I come back I will kick your ass," Bobby growled softly.

Sam gave him a half dimpled if weak smile. "Ok," he said before he slipped gingerly back down under the covers and closed his eyes.

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"What the hell took you so long," John growled and he finished tearing a piece of his shirt and tying it around a fresh gash in his hand.

"Checked on Sam, he's fine. Said he'd stay in bed and went back to sleep," Bobby replied as he put down the lights and stands and setup up the first light.

"Figure an hour?" John guessed as he dug through more junk.

"If we're lucky," Bobby replied as he flicked on the light and then setup the next. "A half hour if we're not and your youngest will be stumbling through the junkyard like a drunken sailor on leave."

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Dean was feeling sleepy and tried to push the dog away from him once more. Every few minutes Shadow was licking at his cheek and forehead. The only good thing was that it was keeping him awake.

"Speak Shadow," he ordered hoarsely and swallowed painfully.

Shadow let loose a few barks with less energy than before.

"Ata girl," Dean said as he tried and failed to keep his head from slumping forward. His forehead stung as it came into contact with Shadow's back but he couldn't seem to muster the energy to move back.

Shadow whined at the contact.

"Sorry grl. I'll mvin just mnt," Dean mumbled. "Nndeeed a seconnd."

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They'd been digging for almost two hours before they found Dean's shredded hand and part of his arm. John swore a streak that would have made a sailor blush as the blood seemed to make him move faster.

Ten minutes later Dean was laying flat on the dirt ground in a safe spot with Shadow nearby.

"Dean? Can you hear me?" John demanded as he slapped his son's blood smeared cheek.

"Dad?" Dean murmured as he moved his head away from the offensive hand.

"Yeah buddy it's me. Open your eyes," John ordered and when his son didn't he slapped his cheek again. "Now."

Dean's head moved slightly before his eyes opened. He stared at his father for a moment. "Whz Sam? Did yu fnd?" He slurred his question as his eyes closed.

"Your brother's inside the house," John said slightly exasperated. "Hey!"

Dean's eyes opened again. "Wha?" He responded hoarsely before his eyes closed again and his head slumped to the side.

John looked over at Bobby and Shadow. "She ok?"

"Yeah. Might need a few stitches but nothing is broken," Bobby said as he ran a hand down the dog's back as Shadow furiously wagged her tail and tried to lick his face before he looked over at Dean. "He ok?"

"Can't stay conscious. His hand's a mess, bleeding from several places and possible concussion," John said. "I'm going to carry him back. Let's go."

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The men got back to the house to find Sam sitting on the floor struggling to tie up his shoes.

"Thought I told you to stay in bed," Bobby growled.

Sam gasped at the sight of his injured big brother. "Dean?" He whispered as his eyes filled with tears.

John pushed past his youngest son and strode towards the bedroom.

Bobby followed and wasn't surprised when Shadow stopped next to Sam and sat down next to him. He hurried into the room ahead of John and pulled back the sheets just as Dean was put down onto the bed.

John got Dean's shirt off and was looking at the wounds when Bobby hurried back in with what was left of his medical supplies.

Bobby swore softly as he saw the bruises left over from previous hunts and the new abrasions from being buried alive.

John just grabbed the box and pulled out the disinfectant and large squares of gauze. "Need to stitch up his arm," he said.

"I'm out. You used what I had on Sam," Bobby said.

"Under the front seat, metal box, has all I need," John replied as he focused on cleaning the wounds and assessing the damage.

"Got it," he said and he hurried out of the room again. He found Sam sitting in the hallway, one hand on Shadow's back and his other arm wrapped around his middle.

"All right you. Come on," Bobby said as he helped the teen to his feet and walked him into John's room.

"No Uncle Bobby. Need to see Dean," Sam replied even as he allowed himself to be put into his father's bed.

"You will. I'll come back and get you when we're done or your dad will be sleeping on the couch," Bobby said.

"That's bad," Sam said as he shook his head.

"Yeah. Makes him a cranky bear, doesn't it," Bobby agreed.

"Uh-huh," Sam said with wide eyes as his uncle brought the covers up around him.

"Now don't leave this room until you're Dad or I come and get you. I mean it kid."

"Ok," Sam answered his eyes already starting to close.

Bobby nodded as he grabbed John's keys off of the dresser and hurried out of the house to the Impala. He yanked open the door and rammed his hand under the front seat. Pulling out wrappers and old papers he found the blue box and was slamming the car door closed and hurrying back into the house before he could even register he'd ripped open his hand under the seat of the car.

He took a second to glance into John's room to see Sam was right where he left him. He was somewhat pleased that Shadow had taken up sentry duty at the foot of the bed. Knowing he had to fix Dean up first, he silently promised the pup that he'd get to her wounds as well. Her wounds were not openly bleeding, so she would have to wait.

John already had several wounds taped over with gauze and was pulling a small piece of metal out of Dean's hand. "It's broken," he said softly as he dropped the piece of metal and tweezers onto the side table.

"How bad?" Bobby asked.

"I got the bone back into place. Do you have anything to cast it in?" John asked as he took the lid and rifled through the contents.

"Yeah I'll get something mixed up. Take a moment," Bobby said. "Need anything else?"

"That'll do for now," John said as he threaded a needle. "Just a simple break. Where's Sam?"

"Your bed. Promised we'd move him when you were done," Bobby answered as he left the room.

John nodded as the needle pierced Dean's skin.

0000000000000

Three hours later Dean had been stitched and his hand placed into a homemade cast. Sam had been checked on and was sleeping peacefully. Shadow had been shaved, stitched and bandaged. Bobby was just putting a homemade cone around her head so she couldn't get at the wound.

"Looks like a satellite dish," John commented as he took a drink of his beer on the porch steps.

"Yeah but better this than her ripping out her stitches," Bobby said as he gave Shadow a pat. "Good girl Shadow."

Shadow's tail thumped on the wood porch and she tried to lean forward to lick her owners face.

With a final pat Bobby stood up and stretched. With the current crisis with the boys handled for the moment he had bones to salt and burn.

"I'll handle it," John said as he stood up and shook his head. "You must be getting old. Missing the body in the back of that car?"

"Hey I'm not superman you know. Don't have x-ray vision," Bobby shot back as they walked back to the mess at the back of the yard. He turned and looked at Shadow. "Subsisto servo."

Shadow whimpered, growl barked before sitting back on her haunches and started panting obeying the orders to stay and protect.

"How'd it get through everything?" John asked as they walked through the maze of cars and general metal scrap.

Bobby shrugged. "Who knows. Didn't get in on it's own. I'll have to check the placement of the wards back there to be sure. Had flooding a few years back. Might have moved a piece or two so I might have some spots that need reinforcements."

John nodded. "Boys can help you with that."

"Boys need time to heal up," Bobby countered.

"They can help you while they heal," John said. "Hey you wanted them here. You've got em. Make good use of their time before we leave."

Bobby frowned as he gave John a side long glance.

"Hey I'm just saying if you don't give them something to do they'll spend the day in front of the TV. They're not dying, they're not bed ridden. In a couple of days they'll be driving you to insanity. It's something they can do without doing much to aggravate their wounds," John said.

Bobby grunted an answer but wasn't sure he was in agreement. But they'd reached the pile of debris and the dead body.

It didn't take long to take care of the problem. They worked in amiable silence digging a grave, dumping in the bones, salting and dousing the remains in gas. The flames burst high into the sky above them and then settled back.

"Little heavy on the fuel there," Bobby remarked.

"Bastard almost killed my son," John answered evenly.

"True," Bobby answered then suddenly grinned. "Shoulda brought marshmallows."

John snorted. "You've been spending too much time with Dean."

"Yeah maybe," Bobby said but saw the slight grin and slightly less pinched look on his friends face.

John sighed. "Christ Bobby," he said softly.

Bobby watched the flames for a few moments before answering. "They're strong but maybe they need a break," he suggested.

"I've got at least four more jobs lined up," John said with a shake of his head.

"You're a sorry son of a bitch, you know that?" Bobby blurted out unable to stop himself.

"So I've been told," John answered calmly.

"Four short months ago we weren't sure Dean was going to live. You were supposed to bring him here three months ago," Bobby said.

"I didn't forget. He's fine and it got busy. Didn't see the need for you to watch him so he could heal properly," John said. "He healed up enough to hunt."

"That boy is nowhere near fine. You're only seeing what you want to see."

"Enlighten me then. Tell me what a monstrous father I am," John said softly.

"You're not a monster," Bobby said with a slight shake of his head. "You're short sighted and driven to mow down all the evil you can find. But it was too soon for all of you."

"We're all fine."

"Bullshit. Speak for yourself but you can't tell me you've missed the blood curdling screams in the middle of the night? Each night for the entire time you've been here?"

"Three nights Bobby and yeah I heard them. Dean took care of Sam," John answered calmly. "He always does, always has."

Bobby clamped down on his frustration. "Call Caleb or Jim or someone else but those boys need downtime. You've run them too hard over the last couple of months. I'll bet you've not given them a break at all."

"They've had school," John replied.

Bobby snorted. "That's not downtime. Some of those courses are downright torture."

"According to Dean anyway," John said with a slight grin. Sam actually liked school, which just baffled him and Dean.

"Yeah well," Bobby said and sighed. "Look they will stay here, heal up, have some down time and fun. You're welcome as well you know but knowing you, you already want to be back on the road."

"You know me too well," John replied. "There's too much to do out there Bobby. There are three families right now being terrorized by spirits, there's two werewolves and several other things. I just can't stop. I need to be out there stopping these evil sons of bitches."

"I know. At least stay the night. See to your boys in the morning and call Caleb. He'll help out. Kids always lookin for a fight of some sort," Bobby said knowing how driven his friend was. He understood. He was exactly the same way after his wife had died.

"I don't know," John said.

"They'll understand John," Bobby started to say and at John snort paused. "Ok, Dean will want to go with you, but they need some down time and Dean, well that boy needs something."

"Like what?" John asked.

"Kid needs a way to deal with all this...," Bobby started, paused and tried again. "John every hunt that kid has been on in the last few months he's been hurt in some way - stitches, concussions, severe bruising. He needs to talk about something or get it out of his system before he gets himself killed."

"I've tried but he won't talk to me anymore. I've ordered and cajoled . . . Hell I even got him wasted hoping the alcohol would loosen his tongue. But he's locked himself away behind a wall and I don't know how to reach him," John said.

"Leave them with me for a bit. Let me see what I can do. Can't hurt, right?" Bobby offered. "Maybe having someone else to talk to will help."

"Yeah," John agreed sadly. "Can't hurt."

"John if he asks," Bobby warned.

"You'll keep it quiet and between the two of you. I know. Not much use trusting you with a secret if you're just going to leak it to his old man," John said.

"Could be nothing more than teenage frustration you know," Bobby said.

"Maybe but I don't think so," John said with a shake of his head and as the fire died out they buried the last of the bones. They turned and headed back to the house in a comfortable silence.

"Just keep them safe until I get back," John said as he sat down on the porch and patted Shadow.

"Always," Bobby said with an understanding nod and headed into the house knowing that John wouldn't be there in the morning.

Shadow watched Bobby go into the house. She whined softly as she looked up at John then got up and walked away leaving John alone on the steps of the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for betaing and just being there for me over the last several months.

Yup that's right. It's an early post! ") I wasn't going to be able to post on Tuesday this week so I thought I'd do it today. This is more of a build up chapter. Just sayin.

Bobby's a little angry in this chapter so theres a wee bit of swearing.

Let me know what you think.

* * *

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 3

Dean sat with his back against the wall, one hand behind his neck, his head resting against his arm and the other plaster encased hand tangled in Shadow's fur. He was overly cautious of the dog's wound and made sure that his hand went nowhere near it. He'd already removed the ridiculous cone that had surrounded her head. He'd keep the dog from going after the wound, but he couldn't just leave the stupid piece of plastic around her neck. It was just too preposterous looking.

A torment of thoughts raced thought his mind about his dad, little brother, Uncle Bobby, and Shadow. He already knew Dad was gone. Nothing concrete told him, he'd not heard the impala drive away or anything, but he just kinda knew. He'd screwed up again. Dean knew he'd been doing that a lot lately and it was more than likely why dad had left him here.

Dad had been crystal clear a few weeks back when he'd almost shot Sammy instead of the shape shifter. After Dad had confirmed the shifter was dead from Dean's bullseye through its heart with a silver bullet, his father had turned growled something lowly and slammed Dean up against a wall. He'd been held there for several tense seconds before he'd been let go. Then before he could even try to defend himself he was cleaning every single piece of equipment in the trunk. Later that night at the motel his father had taken him outside and spoke some words softly before sending him off for supplies. _Having a screw up riding shot gun is just as good as painting a target on mine and Sammy's forehead. Remember that son or I won't be so lenient next time._

The words had bothered him more than the bone chilling stare his father had given him earlier that day and he'd had a hard time shaking off the fear that had crept into his mind. They provoked additional nightmares that had him shooting Sammy instead of the shifter. Between that, and the nightmares of him being back in the hospital hooked up to a breathing tube, IVs and wires, or being almost beaten to death in a rundown house, waking up in a cold sweat had become a nightly occurence.

With a heavy sigh he pushed the memories away and wondered briefly why his little brother wasn't hogging most of the bed and all of the covers as he usually did here. Sammy may not have been in the room with him, but he was pretty sure Dad wouldn't have taken him with him on the road so soon. The man had been difficult to deal with lately, pushed them hard, but Sam had been unconscious and wounded. No matter how difficult he'd gotten over the years, Dad wouldn't mess with that. At least Dean didn't think he would. Not with Sammy anyway.

No, his little brother would have been left behind just like he had. He knew he should get out of bed to check on him but his own frown deepened then closed his eyes. Sam wasn't a baby and he could wait a few more minutes. Even with that decision made, he just couldn't muster the energy to move any more than he already had.

He sighed softly as he listened to the creaks and groans of the old house. Uncle Bobby was up in the library. It was the only thing he was sure of as he could hear him shifting and walking up there. The man often paced back and forth from book case to book case while he was up there researching.

He opened his eyes and glanced down at Shadow. She was here and was whining at him now and then. But her tail was thumping against his leg so he thought she was ok. If she was having any discomfort from her injuries she wasn't showing it.

There was something else though. Something he just couldn't quite put his finger on. Whatever had put him into this bed with a broken hand and several stitches on his arm was bugging him. He couldn't remember what did this or how he got this way. He knew it wasn't the hunt last night, he remembered coming back from that with Sammy hurt so badly. The last thing he could remember was taking a run around the salvage yard with Shadow at his heels.

He shifted uncomfortably. His back hurt, and his entire body felt sore. Not in the _I had a great hunt last night_, more like _Dad kicked my ass in training yesterday_ kinda hurt. Every part of his body had a complaint, but his back and hand seemed to be yelling at him the most.

He gently ran his bruised fingers through Shadow's soft fur again as she whined. His eyes strayed to the shaved patch of skin with dark stitches on her skin and couldn't help but think whatever had done him in last night also had gotten to her. Shadow growled softly and nudged at his chest with her nose before moving her head and licking at his arm.

"Time to get up girl? Hmm?" Dean asked hoarsely as he moved his hand up and scratched her behind her ears. "Want some breakfast?"

Shadow's response was to thump her tail against his leg and looking up at him she began to pant.

"Ok. Ok," he said as he gingerly sat up and looked down into dark eyes. "Don't make me regret taking off the cone girl. Bobby'll have my hide if you do anything, kay?"

"I'll have more than that boy," Bobby said softly from where he stood in the doorway. "Sure you're ready to get up?"

Twinges in his lower back made him wince as he leaned back against the wall and he tried to clear his throat. "Possibly."

Bobby gave him a half smile knowing the boy was in a lot more pain than he was showing as he went into the room. "Well how about you lean forward enough to let me look at that back of yours?"

Dean frowned. "Why?"

"Well there was some deep bruising last night as well as two deep gashes that your father stitched up. I'd like to check on that," Bobby said. "Figure you could tell if the other wounds were an issue."

"Um look Bobby," Dean said with a half grin. "It's ok. I don't need any help."

Bobby sat down next to Dean on the bed. "I know you're hurting boy. This will go a lot easier if you just cooperate."

Dean wanted to protest but he'd gone up against Bobby before. Just like with Dad he always lost. "Fine," he grumbled. He leaned forward and couldn't hide the sharp intake of breath from the pain in his body.

"Easy," Bobby said as he helped the sixteen year old lean forward. He was surprised how easily Dean had given in. Gently he eased up the shirt and was pleased to see there wasn't a stain on the bandage. The bruising was dark and it worried him, possibly because it highlighted whitish scars that had not been there the last time he'd seen Dean's back. "So what have you been tangling with?"

"Usual," Dean answered.

Bobby had to strain to hear him. "You been workin sick boy?" He asked as he eased Dean back so he could lean on the wall.

"No sir. I was cleared by the doctors," Dean answered.

"Any since the hospital?"

Dean looked down at Shadow. "Don't need any more doctors," he said shortly.

"Uh huh. How long has your throat hurt?" Bobby asked.

Dean shrugged half heartedly.

"How long Dean," Bobby said more forcefully.

"It doesn't matter. Its fine," Dean answered angrily as he glared at Bobby. "Back off."

"Watch your tone with me boy," Bobby growled back. "Didn't finish your meds, did you?"

Dean shook his head. "Leave it be Bobby."

"How long did you take them and where are the rest?" Bobby asked again. When Dean didn't answer him his anger flashed again. "Don't make me repeat myself again."

Dean closed his eyes as his head rested back against the wall. He seemed to deflate slightly. "A week give or take. They're in the med kit. Powerful antibiotics aren't that easy to get a hold of."

"Goddamnedfuckingsonofawhore," Bobby started to swear unable to keep his own anger in check. The boy was hurting and sick. His father, stupid soul he was, had let him be ill and forced him to hunt.

Dean physically jumped at his tone and his words. Shadow whined, flinched and barely lifted her head off her paws. Her ears were back and her tail wagged ever so slightly as she watched him.

"Sorry sir," he said softly as he pulled his hand away from Shadow and seemed to curl into himself.

Bobby took a breath and a moment to calm down. The kid was injured and while he wouldn't tolerate any attitude he shouldn't take his anger out on him. The anger belonged to someone else and he wouldn't make the teen suffer for his father's stupidity. "Dean how long has your throat hurt? I want a truthful answer son," he said softly.

"Hasn't stopped since I took out the tube," Dean answered and with his eyes still closed moved a shaking hand back onto Shadow's back.

"All right. I'll get something for the pain and you'll see a doctor," Bobby said calmly shoving the anger down inside until he could unleash it on John, where it belonged.

"No. We don't have the money," Dean said his eyes opening slightly.

Bobby sighed as he reached out and touched the teen's forehead. He wasn't surprised to find it hot. "Well I do and you'll see one whether you like it or not. For now I'm going to give you some aspirin to see if we can get your temperature down."

Dean closed his eyes but didn't protest.

Bobby sat a moment longer as he realized something. "You've been sleeping in the car, haven't you?"

Dean opened his eyes and just looked at Bobby.

"That's why Sammy had the sniffles when you arrived. That's why your throat's not improved," Bobby said hoping the boy would deny it.

"There's no money. Credit cards were maxed from the hospital. Dad had no time to set up more and there was no time for hustling games," Dean admitted. "Uncle Bobby it's not his fault."

"Like hell it isn't. You were supposed to be here months ago. You and Sammy both were supposed to stay here. Both of you were hurt and needed time to recover. That stupid son of a bitch promised," Bobby yelled.

"U-uncle Bobby?" Sammy said from where he stood almost peeking around the doorway. "There's a man at the front door. He insisted he had to talk to you. He's still outside. I locked the door when I closed it."

Bobby shook his head. "Ok Sammy. Why don't you come in here for a bit and keep your brother company?"

"I'll be in Dad's room," Sam whispered and disappeared from sight.

Dean chewed on his lower lip at his brother's skittishness. He knew it was mostly his fault, but Sam's usual response to a difficult situation was to take it head on and be bitchy about it. The quiet and withdrawn version of his little brother was seemingly harder for him to handle.

He always knew how to deal with his little brother. No matter how he was acting or what kind of mood he was in. But the avoidance and silent treatment had shaken him. It was too much to deal with on top of Dad's militant actions and he continuously snapped and lashed out at him. He couldn't seem to stop himself from doing it, possibly because he knew he could get away with it.

Bobby turned to look at Dean who was still looking at where his brother had been. "We'll finish this talk, and about why Sam's afraid of you, when I deal with the jerk at the door."

"Its fine Bobby and nothin's wrong with Sam," Dean said strongly.

"Last I saw you two he couldn't bear to be away from you for more than a few minutes. Now he's reluctant to be in the same room with you. Seems to me there's a problem here," Bobby said as he stood up. "I'll be back with some aspirin in a moment."

Dean watched him leave the room. He took a moment to pet Shadow a couple of times before he sighed. "Come on girl. Time to get up," he croaked.

0000000000000

Sam sat on the bed with his head down, one hand wrapped around his middle and the other on his pillow. He was far too old to still have it, and he wouldn't really give up its position. But while Dean was so angry with him and shutting him out the object seemed the only thing he had to remind himself that at one point his brother loved him and even tolerated him.

Ever since the third or fourth day at Pastor Jim's he couldn't seem to do anything right in his big brother's eyes. His training in the cleric's basement was under constant criticism by his brother. That wasn't abnormal. Dean usually tormented and tortured him during sparing and training. It was serious business but it was usually fun to a point. He had no question Dean wouldn't hurt him, or do anything that would put him in danger. But his older brother had changed since being in the hospital.

He'd been quiet, shuttered away in his thoughts. And in some ways he seemed to change to some tormentor he'd faced too many times in school. A kind of intimidator that left you hiding under the gym bleachers fearing for your life, hoping and praying you were never found. A kind of bully his older brother had taught him how to defend himself against.

There were taunts and putdowns during training exercises that were nasty and cruel. Bruising and even a sprain seemed to be par for the course.

Dad hadn't been much better. Aside from watching sports on the TV, he seemed to be only interested in researching in Pastor Jim's library of demon mythology. Any attempts at joining him were met with brush offs and disinterest. Which if he was being totally honest with himself wasn't really all that unusual when Dad was really into research mode.

His only saving grace was Caleb, who after watching for an hour jumped in to do some sparing with him. Caleb was the only one who seemed to think he was doing ok. His comments and jests were constructive and supportive.

His one and only good day there came from Caleb who had, on the premise of joining a run with him around the block, shoved him into his car and took him to the local ice creamery for a treat, then a movie.

When they returned home Sam and Caleb were met with his furious father and brother. Caleb stayed defiantly in front of him until the shouting match ended with Jim returning home and trying to settle the argument.

As Jim stepped in Sam snuck away and ended up sitting outside the house for hours. Truthfully he'd expected Dean to come out while everything cooled down inside. But it didn't happen. The realization hit him hard and his thoughts turned to escape but running away wouldn't solve anything. It would just make his family hate him even more.

He stayed outside until he got cold. So cold he couldn't feel his face, hands or feet. When he came back inside everyone had gone to bed and he'd been forgotten. With a tired sigh he wandered into the living room, flicked on the fireplace and sat on the hearth watching the flames until he was warm enough to fall asleep.

The next morning he was roughly woken by his father. He was given a ten minute warning to be in the car. By the time Pastor Jim or Caleb were awake they'd been on the road for hours. In complete and total silence. No conversation. No radio. There was only rushing wind through slightly open windows and wheels on pavement.

Sam could feel the tension coming off both his brother and father from the front seat. He wished they'd just left him behind somewhere. Foolishly he'd believed his brother when he told him they were going to Uncle Bobby's right after leaving Pastor Jim's. He really should have known better.

They spent several grueling months on the road, researching, hunting, fighting and working out. They'd done months on the road before without stopping but not like this. They'd never done more than one job on one night and there were usually days between jobs but not this time.

He was researching two or three jobs at one time. He never had the right answers at the right time when his father demanded them. He was constantly wary of anything his family said to him, always looking for the hidden bite or verbal smack down. He didn't have to look very hard because most of them were blatant and caustic.

It had taken a lot of time but he'd found his proverbial ledge. When Dad had taken Dean to an antique shop looking for silver to melt down for bullets Sam sat in silence for a few minutes. Then he was reaching for the phone with a shaking hand. He had to dial the number twice as his eyesight blurred and the keys swam in his vision. Tears began to fall silently down his cheeks as he heard the phone connect on the other end. Singer Salvage had to be the sweetest words he'd ever heard in his entire life. And the gruff voice on the other end of the line broke the last of his control.

His throat closed up and after trying to talk several times he finally choked out a few words, just enough so Bobby would know it was him. After trying to calm down he sobbed out he was leaving and begged his uncle to pick him up somewhere, anywhere, as far away from his family as he could get.

Bobby's calm voice on the other end of the line eventually got him to stop crying and he couldn't help but tell him what had happened since they'd left Pastor Jim's. It felt like forever since someone had honest to god listened and heard him. He only hung up the phone after Bobby swore to him he'd call his father in for help on a hunt. Then he'd cleaned himself up and was back to researching the next couple of hunts Dad had setup before his family had returned to the motel.

It took three weeks of Bobby calling John to finally get him to the safety of the salvage yard. But there was no safety from Dad and Dean's anger.

He tried hard to figure out what he'd done that was so wrong. After each nightmare he'd make himself stay awake as he thought about it. The only conclusion he could come to was that Dad was furious at him for breaking the salt line at the hunt when they'd left Dean in the house. Dean was upset that he'd allowed dad and himself to get hurt. Plus he'd clung to Dean like a five year old at the hospital.

He'd been weak against the poltergeist. He'd been weak because of the concussion that made him to cry and be clingy to his older brother. Dad had drilled it into them that weakness was unacceptable. Weakness and fear were for the people they protected. Winchesters were never weak no matter what was thrown at them.

He heard his brother shuffle down the hall, past his room, without poking his head in to check on him or even bother to throw an insult at him. Figuring the coast was clear he reached under the pillow and took out the teddy bear given to him years ago at Christmas by his brother.

The stuffed animal was pretty dirty and worn out. Tufts of fur were missing and one of the eyes was long lost. The one addition that had been made to the little bear was small protection runes. He'd watched as his older brother painstakingly wrote them all over the bear paws before he and Dad had left him alone for the first time on a hunt. The runes had been rewritten when they'd gotten to faint to see. Now they were faded with time but were still legible enough for Sammy to trace his finger over them.

It was how he learned what they were and how to write them. And it was the only thing he had left to prove that his brother loved him.

With a heavy heart he realized the cherished bear was a sign of weakness. He couldn't afford to continue to look weak in front of his family. With one final sad gaze over the worn out bear Sam got up and gently put it into the garbage can. He stared at it for a moment as he tried to tell himself he was far too old for it. Then he turned away with a soft sigh and rubbed at his head, wincing as he touched a sore spot.

The room swam a little in his vision and he sat back on his bed. He waited patiently for it to clear then he pushed the pillows back against the wall. Opening the drawer of the night table next to his bed he fished out a well worn book.

He smiled slightly at the cover. Mixed in with Bobby's motley collection of books were a heavy smattering of old sci-fi books. A little something left over from his uncle's previous life, or so he figured. He settled back against his pillows and began to read.

0000000000000

It was exhausting just making his way down the hall. He'd glanced into Sam's room as he passed by, but he didn't have the energy for a heart to heart conversation so he kept moving. He knew it was long time in coming, and as much as he hated having them, Sammy really needed them once in a while. They'd needed to talk several times since he'd woken up in the hospital, but he just couldn't seem to find the right time.

He knew he should've talked to Sam, but pushing him in his training to be better seemed far more important. He never wanted Sammy in the position he'd been in earlier that year. He'd never been so scared and alone in his entire life. There was no way he'd leave Sammy in that position, but that didn't mean Dad would allow him to stay if things ever repeated themselves. So he'd pushed the training, hard, maybe too hard. Sammy had disappeared for almost three hours.

Three hours where he had no idea where he was or what he was doing or even if he was safe. Sure he thought Caleb had gone out after Sam had, but he didn't know where they'd gone, or even if they were together.

Dad had gone ballistic, even going as far as slamming him up against the wall demanding to know where Sam was. It took forever to convince Dad that he didn't know. He'd only sent Sam for a run, three times around the block. Just like every day since they'd arrived at the pastor's home. Twenty minutes max and the kid should have been back. Jim's was a safe neighborhood. It should've been safe, Sammy should have been safe. The little jerk had been, but his own terror had been reflected in his father's eyes.

Every second his kid brother was gone a million and one things had gone through his mind as to what could have happened to him.

He was relieved when the door opened and Caleb waltzed in with Sammy just behind him. His relief immediately turned to anger that the little freak had pulled that stunt. It was as if he didn't care that he and Dad were waiting for him back at Jims. As if it didn't matter when he came back or where he went. And then he couldn't even be bothered to defend himself, just let Caleb do all the talking.

It had made dad's mind up that it was time to get on the road but they weren't ready. Sammy was still having issues with headaches and nightmares. He was having issues with his leg and arm. Dad wouldn't listen just like always.

He knew as soon as they had gotten onto the interstate that they weren't going to Bobby's. Dad had deliberately driven in the opposite direction. When Dean had asked him when they'd stopped for gas and Sam was in the washroom, Dad had quietly told him that only he decided when and where they would go no matter what had been said at the hospital. Dean was ordered back into the car and that was that.

A cold nose being shoved into the palm of his hand brought him out of his musings. He glanced down at Shadow as she wagged her tail and looked up at him. A slight smile crossed his face as he ran a hand over her soft fur and felt some of the building anxiety ease.

Hearing muffled voices he looked out the living room window and spotted Bobby in the front of the house with a greasy piece of engine in his hands as he spoke with a customer.

"Wouldja look at that girl. A real paying customer," Dean said hoarsely. He watched for another minute or two just to make sure Bobby was ok. Then he shuffled off towards the kitchen in search of coffee.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. No Winchester or animal were hurt in the making of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story.

The chapter was ready and since I posted last week on a Sunday I thought I'd just go ahead and post today. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I will probably post chapter 5 next Sunday. :)

**This chapter's warnings**: There's slight swearing and hurt/very upset boys in this chapter.

* * *

Shadows

Chapter 4

By infinite shadow

Dean settled himself comfortably on the couch, his legs propped up on the table, one hand wrapped a mug of steaming coffee the other broken one resting on Shadow's back. They were breaking yet another rule where Shadow was concerned. The dog was not allowed in the house and she definitely wasn't allowed on the couch.

"Well what do you say to a little entertainment girl? Too bad Bobby doesn't get many channels," Dean asked as he balanced the cup between his legs and flicked on the TV. He went through several different channels before landing on a cartoon for a moment, Sam's favourite. Then he pushed the button a few more times before stopping on a movie. "This will do."

Shadow yawned letting out a slight whine before settling her muzzle on Dean's thigh.

Putting the remote on the arm of the couch he sighed and grabbed his mug as he glanced at the dog. She looked up at him with deep dark eyes. "What?" He asked then took a sip of the dark brew and watched the TV for a few seconds.

He glanced down at the dog and immediately looked back at the TV. Shadow was staring at him and it was hard to ignore. He took another drink before looking down at the dog again. Frowning at what he took to be a condemning look he sighed again. "Don't look at me like that. I'll talk to him."

Shadow sat up abruptly and panted as she looked at him.

"Really. I'm gonna talk to him, just not right now," Dean said as he rubbed her back and looked at the TV. "Movie's on."

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Sam was up to the third chapter. The book was an easy read about humans being taken over by an alien entity. He loved to read and would devour anything he could get his hands on. It took him away from everything and transplanted him to a different place. It was a break from his life in the best way possible.

Loud voices from outside caught his attention and he put the book down. He listened carefully and could barely make out Bobby's voice. Quiet and gruff but firm. There was another voice though; this one was male and shaky, as if panicked.

He didn't like how it sounded and knew Bobby was out there alone. Getting up he went into his brother's room and dug through his duffel until he found his gun. Sam slipped it into his shirt sleeve and balanced it just above his wrist, just like Dean had taught him.

He wasn't feeling great but slowly made his way to the back door. Easing the door open he could see Bobby and didn't like that he couldn't see the other man.

He faltered slightly. What if he was reading this wrong? What if this was just a customer who was frustrated that he couldn't find the part he was looking for? He had to know if this was something Bobby really needed help with before jumping in.

"_Bobby where is it?" A man's voice asked._

"_I told ya before I don't work with you, for you, and I refuse to track down jack for you. Go away before I fill your ass with buckshot," Bobby said._

"_I need it," the voice almost whined._

"_Don't care. Get the hell off my property," Bobby growled._

Sam knew that tone. That was the one that made him, Dean and even Dad stop pushing the salvage yard man or Bobby would implode.

"_You're going to get it for me," the voice said._

"_Like hell," Bobby ground out._

There was a sound that Sam recognized as a hand gun being cocked.

"_It doesn't matter. I won't do it. That won't make me change my mind," Bobby said calmly._

"_You will. I need this and you will track it down for me. Or I'll make sure you shake hands with the devil himself," the man said._

Sam had heard enough. Bobby needed his help and he'd have to play this just right.

Shoving the door open he went out onto the wraparound porch and made his way around until he could see both men. "Hey Bobby have you…" He trailed off as if surprised the other man was there.

"Sam," Bobby growled.

"Sorry. _Uncle_ Bobby," Sam said and ducked his head slightly as if being chastised for not addressing the man properly. "I didn't realize you had a customer."

"S'ok boy. Just go back inside," Bobby answered with a slight smile.

"You sure?" Sam asked as he looked back at the customer and watched him as the man narrowed his eyes at the boy. He was wearing a leather bomber jacket, worn out jeans and a dark shirt. The thirteen year old thought he could be Dean in a few years.

"Yeah he's sure kid. Go back inside. This don't concern you," the man said.

Sam glanced down at the man's hand and saw how stiffly he held his arm and he couldn't see his hand at all. Exactly the way Dad held himself when he'd been surprised when he'd been holding a weapon and he didn't want the gun seen.

"Really? I think it does," he said as he shook his arm slightly, just enough for the gun to slip into his hand and raise it. He aimed it directly at the man. "Show me your hands real slow."

"Sam what are you doing?" Bobby demanded.

"Kid you don't want to mess with me," the man said warningly.

"You know I think I really really do," Sam said with a tilt of his head.

"What's gotten into you boy?" Bobby ground out. "Put the weapon away and go back inside."

"Shut up Bobby," Sam said.

Bobby shook his head slightly. "Where the hell is Dean?"

"Who cares? He doesn't give a rat's ass what I do as long as I'm not in his way," Sam answered his hand starting to shake. It stung and he hadn't even done anything except hold onto the weapon.

"Not true Sam," Bobby said.

"Shut up the both of you! Bobby where the hell is that item you promised?" The man demanded.

"I promised you nothin and I told you it ain't here. It ain't anywhere," Bobby snarled. "For the last time Morgan get off my property or I just might let Sam here shoot you."

"Really?" Sam said his face lighting up with a big smile, just like Dean would've. "You'll let me shoot him?"

"NO!" Bobby yelled as he glanced at Sam for a moment before looking back at Morgan. "Go away and don't come back. Ever."

"Bobby you're the only one I know who can hunt this down. I need it. Please," Morgan begged as he brought his weapon up as well.

The gun went off even before Sam thought about it. A little cloud of dust appeared at the base of Morgan's feet where the bullet lodged in the dirt.

Morgan gave a soft yelp in surprise as he jumped back and dropped the gun.

He smiled even though he felt sick inside and raised the gun slightly. "Next time I'll take out a knee or maybe your elbow."

Both men looked at Sam in astonishment.

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Dean flicked off the TV. Shadow had jumped down from the couch a few moments ago. She had started whining before pacing back and forth from the front door to the back door. She went back to Dean and started barking before returning to the back door then came round to the front door. She dug slightly at the door frame then put her front paws on the door and looked back at Dean.

"What is your problem?" Dean demanded before getting up and moving towards her.

Shadow put her front paws down on the floor, rushed up to Dean, licked at his hand and looked up at him. She whined and shook slightly then moved back to the front door. The dog growl barked before looking up at the front door then looked back at Dean.

Dean shook his head at her antics and grinned feeling a little sad. He reached out and gently scratched her behind her ears. "You want out? Finally tired of my company huh girl?" He said softly and when Shadow whined again he opened the door.

Shadow was out the door with a bark and raced down the steps.

"_Bobby you're the only one I know who can hunt this down. I need it. Please."_

Dean ignored the voices and was about to shut the door when he physically jumped at the sound of a gun going off. Even as he slammed his feet into his shoes and hurried out onto the porch he could hear Shadow going crazy barking and growling at something. Not seeing anyone he quickly walked towards where he could hear the dog tearing into clothing. Just as he rounded the corner he heard his little brother's voice.

"_Next time I'll take out a knee or maybe your elbow."_

"Elbow? Sammy have I not taught you anything?" Dean said with a slight shake of his head even as he took in the situation around him. His usual defense of sarcasm kicked in even as his heart began to race. "Kid you have a lot to learn about the snappy comebacks. Elbows aren't cool. Hands or foot maybe cause the hopping would look funny."

Sam watched his older brother come towards him. "SHUT UP! Just shut up. Go back inside. I don't need you for this. I have everything under control."

Dean could see Bobby in his peripheral vision picking up a gun from the ground but he kept his eyes on Sam. His hand was shaking and blood was dripping from the base of the gun's handle. Whatever had happened here he didn't care. What mattered was getting his little brother calmed down and his hand looked after. He took a steadying breath to calm himself. "I can see that. You did a good job here, protected Bobby real well."

Sam looked over just in time to see Bobby punch the man he'd called Morgan in the face and the man slumped to the ground. Shadow was growling and barking at the man, distracting him. He looked back in time to see his brother close enough to grab his gun and he took a step back. "No!"

"Easy Sammy. It's just me," Dean said as he stopped moving and brought his hands up to show his brother he wasn't hiding anything. That he wasn't going to trick him or do him harm. He could see his brother beginning to freak out. His eyes were wide and his breathing fast and shallow. His stance hadn't changed though and Dean knew he was struggling to keep it together.

"But I did it right. You can't be mad at me this time. I did it right!" Sam said as his voice shook and cracked slightly. "I did it right!"

"Yeah you did. I'm not mad, I promise," Dean said careful to keep eye contact with his little brother. Usually that would keep Sammy calm, but this time he could see panic increasing in his eyes as seconds ticked by.

"But you're always mad at me now no matter what," Sam said as he turned and focused his attention solely on Dean.

The gun shook dangerously in his brother's hand and now pointed directly at him. Dean cleared his throat. "Sammy I was mad, but not at you," he said softly and watched as another drop of blood fell from the base of the gun to the porch.

Below them at ground level Bobby was escorting Morgan to his car as he kept his attention on the boys. He yelled a command at Shadow and the dog immediately sat down and was quiet. Her eyes never left the man until he was tucked away into his car.

"Sammy you're hurt," Dean said with a slight gesture of his hand. "Let me help you."

"I'm not," Sammy said as he shuffled back a little further.

"Take a look at your hand. You must have torn a stitch or two when the gun went off," Dean said. "Look at it."

Sam's hand shifted slightly turning the gun sideways as he looked at his hand. The gauze was stained bright red and blood was dripping to the ground. "I'm bleeding?" He said with a slightly surprised tone to his voice as he looked back at his brother.

"Yeah buddy you are. Will you let me help you?" Dean asked as he took the slightest step forward. Almost, he thought to himself. He had to be careful not to push too hard or the kid would literally run, but almost.

"My hand hurts," Sam admitted then shook his head as he paled sharply and stepped back. "N-no. You'll tell dad and I'll get punished and you'll yell at me and make me do more sparring and tell me I'm doing everything wrong and… and…"

"No I won't. I promise," he said strongly.

"You promised we were going to Uncle Bobby's right after Pastor Jim's. You lied to me!" Sammy yelled his voice cracking over the words again.

"No Sam that was Dad. He promised me that we'd come here. He didn't feel we needed any more time to recover. If I had known he was going to change his mind I wouldn't have promised you that Little Man. I swear," Dean said knowing he had little time. He could see his brother starting to shake and his eyes were filling with tears he was desperately holding back. If he dropped the gun, or accidentally squeezed the trigger he would bleed to death on Bobby's porch. He shook his head slightly. "You used to trust me."

"Yeah but everything changed. I screwed everything up. We left you and I let dad get hurt and now you hate me cause I'm too weak and you have watch over me and make sure I don't get hurt and I screw up everything," Sam said and sniffed slightly.

"Sammy," Dean said softly as his eyes widened in surprise at what had just been said. His mind reeled for a second with the information.

Sam took a shaky breath and wrapped an arm around his chest as he looked away.

Dean cleared his throat. "Looking out for you is kinda like breathing. Most times I don't even know I'm doing it. And dude, the rest, seriously? You don't screw up everything. Dad got hurt, we all do. It's part of the job. You didn't have a choice but to leave me in that house, Dad wouldn't have let you stay behind no matter what you said. And man, I don't hate you. No matter what happens between us, no matter how pissed I get at you over something, I couldn't ever hate you man."

Sam mulled over the words. "You don't hate me?" He whispered.

"Nah," Dean said taking a tentative step further and gave his little brother a slight smile. "Monster pain in the ass at times but I don't hate you."

Sammy's shaking increased and he pointed the gun towards the porch. He tried to slip the safety back on but his finger slipped.

Dean took two steps forward and eased the weapon out of his brother's hand. He quickly put the safety on, winced as he tucked the gun into the small of his back and wrapped a hand around Sammy.

"I'm sorry," Sammy whispered as he wrapped his arms around his big brother. He started to shake and couldn't stop the tears that had been building from falling. "I'm sorry."

Dean was surprised for a second when Sammy wrapped his arms around him. A soft sob and whispered apologies had him shaking his head and rubbing his back. "S'OK little man. I've got you. It's going to be OK. I'm going to take care of this, alright?" And he was. No more hunts until they were both healed. When dad returned they were going to talk about how much hunting they'd been doing.

A car started behind them and drove off. Bobby rushed up the steps and put a hand on Dean's shoulder. Shadow brushed against his leg a second later.

"We OK here?" Bobby asked as he glanced at Sam then back up at Dean.

"Yeah," Dean answered then grabbed onto his brother tighter and stumbled back a step as Sam went limp in his arms. "Or not. Help me get him inside."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. No Winchester or animal were hurt in the making of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story.

**This chapter's warnings**: There's slight swearing and upset Dean in this chapter. I feel like it's a short chapter that doesn't move the story forward much at all. Chapter 6 will follow shortly to keep the story going.

**Shadows**

**By infinite shadow**

**Chapter 5**

With one hand slowly stroking through Shadow's fur Dean read through an ancient text. Some of the research Dad had insisted Sammy do before stopping at Bobby's. One of several hunts they were going to do after helping out their friend. His little brother was in no condition to be researching right now, and quite truthfully he had no idea if this was actually necessary with Dad already gone. But he could at least get a start on it just in case.

Researching had never been his forte as he found it beyond boring. Disinterest always made his mind wander making it hard to concentrate on translating the old Latin words; his vision blurred every now and then from exhaustion making the words harder to discern. He realized after a few moments that he was re-reading the same page for the third time and closed it.

His eyes moved around the room, checking the area without realizing he was even doing it until he settled on his little brother sleeping on his side facing away from him. The book tilted down into his lap as he reached over and gently touched Sammy's forehead. It was cooler than before, the fever was easing, but he was still worried. It wasn't everyday that your younger brother fainted on you, even in their family business.

A soft whimper had his broken and bruised hand moving of its own volition as his fingers ghosted through Sammy's sweaty dark curly locks of hair. Watching him closely as Sam shifted slightly and settled with a soft sigh.

His chest clenched tightly as his little brother seemed to relax next to him. It amazed him that Sammy still trusted him even though he'd treated him so badly over the last several months.

"I know things have been majorly screwed up lately," he said hoarsely almost surprising himself that he was talking. "I know that it's my fault."

He paused waiting to see if talking was waking his brother up. When Sam continued to sleep he tried to clear his throat, not sure he could continue if he woke up. "I'm sorry for being such a jerk and for letting Dad run us so hard. I knew it was too much but I just let it go. I let him ream you out for such stupid stuff, and he pushed so hard on the research and the hunts. I knew you were getting sick but I let Dad just order us around everywhere. Not once did I stick up for you, or even try to get him to see our side of it."

He ran his fingers through his brother's hair again hoping to settle him when Sam shifted restlessly against him. "It was almost as if he was a different person after leaving Jim's," he whispered and paused again as Sam moved onto his stomach.

"It stops now. I shouldn't have let it get this far. You should never, ever be afraid of me. You should always feel like you can come to me with anything. I should've protected you better from Dad and everything he's made us do," he said and his voice failed him completely as his throat closed up. He sniffed softly and took a steadying breath. "It was too much too soon. I shoulda stopped it for you."

Sam shifted slightly again in his sleep, his arm flung out and Dean caught it gently before his hand smacked against something that would cause it more damage.

Shadow lifted her head off the bed and her tail thumped against the bed.

"No matter what happens to the both of you not everything is your fault Dean," Bobby said softly as he came into the room.

"I know," Dean replied quietly not looking away from his sibling, and not believing the words for a second. His eyes flew to the doorway as he heard heavy footfalls coming down the hallway towards them. "Bobby what did you do?"

A man who was barely five foot, leaning heavily on a cane, dressed in a dark t-shirt and blue jeans came into the room. "You Dean? The sleeping boy Sam?"

Dean glared at him taking an immediate dislike to the man. He took a good look, saw the backpack slung over his shoulder and shifted the glare over his former friend. "Bobby no," he ground out.

"Now don't be like that. You don't even," Bobby tried to explain but got cut off.

"No way am I gonna let some freak show look at me. No friggin way," he said so strongly that even in his hoarseness made the man look over to Bobby in confusion.

Dean knew immediately he'd used the wrong tone as Sam whimpered softly. He gently put his hand on his brother's back.

"Look Jerry's a friend of mine," Bobby said ignoring the glare and defiance.

"No," Dean said with a slight shake of his head.

"Thought you might say that but he's ok Dean. In fact Jerry's one of us. He's no stranger to what we do," Bobby continued as if the older teen hadn't spoken.

"Kid Bobby's already told me," Jerry tried to say but was surprised as Dean sat up sharply from where he was leaning against the wall and pinned him with a glare that made him swallow hard, even as the kid winced.

"No. Absolutely not," Dean said as loudly as he could as white hot anger surge through him. "I don't give a rat's ass what Bobby's told you! Get out!"

"Dean?" Sam whimpered as he tried to move away.

"It's ok Sammy," Dean whispered his face relaxing slightly as his hand ran up and down his brother's back. "Everything's ok."

Sam tried to move onto his back but only managed to roll closer to someone's legs. Things were hazy and he couldn't seem to focus. He knew he was in bed, lying on his side with his head on a pillow. It took a moment for it to register that Dean had stretched out behind him, seated with is back against the wall and his legs brushing against his back.

It took only a second more to realize his brother was really angry again and he struggled to figure out what he'd done wrong.

"Dean all I'm going to do is make sure," Jerry started but got cutoff by Bobby.

"This ain't a request boy. Jerry is a doctor and you will let him look you over," Bobby said calmly but firmly. "Now."

"Dean what?" Sam whispered.

Dean tried to push back his anger, reigning in some control as he felt Sam move next to him.

"Take your damn book," Dean snarled as he tossed the ancient text at Bobby. His eyes almost glowed with fury as he looked from one man to the other. "Get the hell out. We don't need any more doctors."

Then he was helping Sam move onto his other side with such a contrasting gentleness that both men could only watch in surprise at the extreme change in attitude.

Dean knew Sam wasn't really awake as he scooted down and pulled his little brother next to him. He wrapped his broken hand around him and guided him to rest his head against his shoulder. "I got you Little Man."

"Mad?" Sam asked softly, his single word slightly slurred as he listened to Dean's steady heartbeat beneath his ear. A familiar sound that had been his lullaby and calmed his fears as long as he could remember. He felt his brother's strong arm squeeze around him slightly and he felt the safest and the most secure for the first time in too long.

"No buddy. I'm not mad at you," Dean replied just as softly.

"Tired. Don't feel good," Sam whispered.

"Go to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up," Dean replied as he rested his cheek against Sam's hair.

"But I gotta finish," Sam said as he raised his hand and put it over the amulet that rested on Dean's chest.

"It's all done. No more research. Just sleep. Everything's ok Sammy. Just get some sleep," Dean said as he pulled the covers up and tucked them around his brother. That he could do for Sam. It didn't make up for squat, but he knew his brother would sleep better that way.

"Kay," the younger brother half said and half sighed. Then his breathing evened out and he was asleep.

Dean looked up at both men. His eyes immediately went cold and his face hardened. "What part of get the fuck out do you not understand?" He said dangerously soft.

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Bobby stared back in surprise and disbelief. While Dean usually pushed his luck and tested set boundaries he had never out and out defied him before. He almost cursed out loud as he saw the ever so brief flicker in the teen's eyes. He should have known that the defiance and fury was nothing more than badly covered fear and anxiety.

He knew his usual way of handling the kid with good natured threats and glares wasn't going to work this time. Dean's behavior reminded him of an injured cornered animal. One hand wrapped protectively around his little brother and his other hand clenched into a tight fist. Hs eyes darted from Bobby to the door and back to Bobby.

He'd not meant to frighten the teen or for his fight or flight to instinct kick in. But it was there plain as day on his face. Wouldn't take much, regardless of how the kid felt for him to come out swinging. He'd have to find a way to calm him down. And he knew he'd have to do it soon as Dean looked away from him and set his sights on Jerry.

"Maybe this isn't a good time. I'll come back if he'll agree to being examined," Jerry said as he looked at Bobby.

Bobby barely registered that his friend had spoken but felt himself nod. He continued to watch Dean surprised at the fury he could feel radiating off the kid.

He knew he was on tenuous ground and had to find the right thing to say or Dean would have a complete meltdown. It was something he couldn't allow to happen. Kid had been through hell and he didn't need anything else to happen. Dean was carrying far too much on his shoulders as it was.

Shadow whimpered on the bed and shook slightly at the strain in the room. She got up and paced the length of the bed twice between master and friend before lying back down with her head on Dean's chest.

Automatically Dean's free hand reached for the dog and began to run his hand through her fur.

"Dean," Bobby said softly. "You know I won't tolerate behavior like that, but seeing what's happened to you over the last couple of months I'm willing to let that pass. Just this one time."

The words only fueled Dean's anger and he glowered at the hunter standing at the foot of his bed. He was so angry that he had no words to spit out.

"Look I know you're upset. What I don't know is why," Bobby said as he stepped up and sat down next to Shadow. "Wish you'd trust me enough to tell me."

"Not about trust," Dean answered finally looking away and into Shadow's soulful brown eyes.

"Ok. Can you tell me then?" Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head and suddenly the anger burned out leaving him exhausted and feeling emptier than ever.

"Why not?" The salvage yard man pressed gently.

Dean clamped his teeth together so hard that his jaw muscles twitched.

"Are you afraid," Bobby said meaning to ask if the boy would be afraid that he'd tell his father but got cut off.

"I'm not afraid," Dean denied strongly whipping his eyes back up to Bobby's, the anger flaring instantly.

Bobby stared down at him trying hard to read his emotions. "I think you are."

"I don't care what you think," Dean shot back and wished he hadn't said that. He did care what Bobby thought, more than what his own father did. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I think you do," Bobby said in a low gentle tone. "Doesn't matter what the problem is Dean. I may not even have an answer for you. But what I won't do is think it's funny, or a waste of time, or bad, or whatever you think I might think it is. Trust me enough that I'll listen to what you have to say and help you if I can, if you want me to."

Taking a shaky breath Dean opened his eyes and looked up at his uncle. "I can't. I'm not ready. I have… I have to fix things with Sammy," he whispered and tears burned his eyes but he didn't let them drop.

Bobby nodded. "Ok."

"No it isn't ok," Dean said softly and closed his eyes again.

"You're right. But I hope when you get things straight with Sammy that you'll talk to me?" Bobby asked.

Dean nodded but didn't open his eyes.

Bobby couldn't help but notice that Dean's arm seemed to hold Sammy a slight bit closer. He reached out and gently squeezed the older teen's shoulder. "Good. Get some sleep boy."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. No Winchester or animal were hurt in the making of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story.

**This chapter's warnings**: Ok. Here's the chapter I've been worried about posting. More info here on what's happened, and what's kept the boys apart. This is the beginning of the darker stuff here. There are mentions of abuse here, it isn't overly graphic, but if that doesn't work for you please do not read. It will only get darker from here so please if you're going to read please keep the abuse warning in mind.

**Shadows**

**By infinite shadow**

**Chapter 6**

It was late. Dean and Sam had slept through the afternoon and the evening. An insistent call from a frenzied John had Bobby quietly entering the boy's room.

Shadow whined softly and wagged her tail in greeting. Bobby carefully watched Dean as the dog reacted to his presence but when the teen didn't even stir he let out the small breath he'd been holding and walked further into the room. It was never good to startle Dean from a deep sleep. He usually got up swinging which Bobby preferred to avoid.

Dean still didn't wake but his arm tightened around his little brother as Bobby shook Sammy's shoulder gently. "Sammy?" Bobby almost whispered.

The boy stirred softly and sighed as Dean automatically rubbed his back and Sammy slipped deeper into sleep.

"Uncle Bobby?" Dean whispered as his head turned a little towards him without opening his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just need to see Sammy's research," Bobby answered.

"In his duffle. Metal coil notebook," Dean said and yawned sleepily. His eyes opened just a crack and he sleepily looked up at the man silhouetted by the hallway light.

"Thanks Buddy. Go back to sleep," Bobby said.

"Kay," Dean sighed and after pulling at the blankets slightly he drifted back into sleep.

Bobby opened the bag on the floor and reached inside. He pulled out a binder, a novel and then two notebooks with a wire spiral holding them together. He quickly shoved the other items back into the duffle then left the room.

He quickly went into the living room and put the well worn books onto the coffee table. He grabbed the handle of the phone, tucked it between his shoulder and ear then picked up the first book. "Ok. I got the research. What is it you're hunting again?" Bobby asked as he flipped open the book.

Twenty minutes later Bobby sat back down on the couch. He flipped on the TV then twisted off the cap on his beer bottle and took a drink. John was hunting, the kids were sleeping and he had a little quiet time for himself. He flicked through a few more channels as he took a long pull off his bottle and settled on an old black and white movie.

He watched for a while until the commercial came on. His eyes drifted down to the notebooks on his coffee table. Curiosity got the better of him as he grabbed one of the books and flipped it open.

He grinned and shook his head slightly. Written on the thin cardboard cover was a list of all the items that were in the book. His grin faded as he glanced down the list. The last two items were DW and JW.

He opened the book towards the end of the book and flipped through a few demons, spells and notes until he got to a page titled DW.

Notes that had been written were crossed out. One word remanded legible and underlined several times. Angry.

His frown deepened and he turned the page. This one was titled JW. There were notes on Johns erratic behaviors, reactions and things he'd ordered the boys to do. There were pages and pages of notes. Places they'd been, evil they'd hunted and things John had made Sam research that they'd never hunted. All to do with revenge demons, or haunting that the spirit would specifically say they were exacting revenge.

As Bobby continued to read he got an odd queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The notes began to describe a man he'd never met and nothing like the John he'd grown to know and proud to call friend.

There were details, things that Sam had called failures, the words written red in his messy scrawl. The one that had him taking a sharp breath and growling out a curse were the words _I screwed up again and Dad punished me. Have to be more careful and triple check everything from now on. Can't tell Dean._

He looked up as he felt bile rising in his throat. It wasn't that Sammy had been punished; it was that he didn't think he could tell Dean. What could he have done that the worse punishment would have been telling his older brother? John's usual punishments were extra laps, extra homework or long hours of weapons maintenance. Why would Sam feel like he needed to keep that from Dean?

Unless… He flashed back to Sammy's frightened phone call to him. It had taken a long time to calm him down. When he finally had the boy still had a tremor in his voice. He looked down at the open book on the table. Almost afraid of what else the notebook had to reveal.

He needed to know just what the boy had been through. Hairs rose on the back of his neck as different possible scenarios ran through his mind.

With a sharp shake of his head Bobby picked up the book. "Don't go lookin to borrow trouble Singer. Probably nothin'," he muttered to himself, hoped he was right, and began to read again.

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It was just past six as Dean stumbled down the hallway making his way to the kitchen to make some coffee with Shadow at his feet. He could hear her nails clicking on the hardwood floor and feel her continuously bump into his leg.

He stopped and scowled as he saw Bobby in the living room. He was slouched down with one leg stretched out on the coffee table and his other leg was bent with a glass half filled with amber liquid rested on his knee. For a minute he thought the man had fallen asleep that way but one step into the room and he knew Bobby was awake.

"Uncle Bobby?" Dean asked as he watched the dog go happily into the room and sit next to her master.

"Yeah?" Bobby replied ignoring Shadow.

"You ok?" Dean asked.

Bobby sighed. "Dean what happened after you left Jim's?"

Dean shrugged slightly. "Drove, hunted, trained. You know the usual."

"Not bloody likely," Bobby growled back.

As Shadow whined Dean stepped forward and gave her a scratch behind her ears. He frowned and arched an eyebrow. "Well I was there. S'all we did."

Bobby sighed again as he grabbed the glass off his knee before Shadow could push it off with her nose. He downed all of the liquid in one go then straightened up and sat properly on the couch.

Shadow whined again and Dean bent down to give her a good petting. He winced as his back complained about the movement as did his various other injuries but he ignored them.

"I'll save you from having to read pages and pages of Sammy's scribbles. However I want you to read this line," Bobby said as he picked up the notebook, flipped back a few pages and pointed to a line before handing it to Dean. "Out loud."

Dean straightened up and took the book. "I screwed up again and Dad punished me. Ok so he had…"

"Finish reading it," Bobby growled.

"Um Uncle Bobby what?" Dean asked as he looked away from the book.

"Finish reading," Bobby said deadly quiet.

Shadow stood up and moved until she was standing behind Dean.

"Uh ok. _I screwed up again and Dad punished me. Have to be more careful and triple check everything from now on. Can't tell_," Dean stopped reading and glanced up at Bobby. "_Can't tell Dean._ What couldn't he tell me Bobby?"

"What could possibly go so bad that he couldn't tell you?" Bobby demanded. "What the hell aren't you telling me!"

Dean's lips moved but no sound came out. He took a breath and shook his head feeling like he's come into a situation half way through and was expected to know everything. "I don't understand. We screw up all the time. We do laps and stuff. It's a huge pain but it's not the end of the world. Really Uncle Bobby. I swear that's all Dad makes us do."

Bobby grabbed the book back and flipped a few more pages. He pinned Dean with a glare even though he was starting to believe that this was all a surprise to the teen. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah. What are you goin' on about?" Dean asked.

"Fine. Start reading. See what you've been missing," Bobby said as he shoved the book at Dean.

Dean stared at him for a moment before he sat down and began to read.

A few moments later, after skimming through several pages, Dean started to shake his head. "No. No. This couldn't have… I don't…," he stammered out as he continued to read.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed quietly as he poured more drink into his glass and took a sip. He knew for sure, not really knowing how he even doubted, that Dean had absolutely no idea. He just wished he'd be there to help him when it came time to deal with it. He wanted several shots at John himself.

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Sammy woke alone in a dark room. He didn't think his big brother had been gone for too long as the bed was still warm. Sleepily he sat up and rubbed at an eye for a moment. He sighed heavily and thought about getting up. He really didn't want to. He wanted to snuggle back in the bed but he knew he still had stuff to research for Dad. He had to get at it to make sure he had it done in time and that it was correct.

The young teen walked down the hallway and heard hushed voices coming from the living room. He stopped and watched for a moment

"No. No way. Bobby you don't understand. There's just no way," Dean stuttered as he kept reading. The same words had been pouring out of him since he'd started reading ten minutes previous.

Sam visibly blanched as he realized they had found his book with all of his findings on Dad. There'd be no keeping Dean knowledge free of what Dad was doing now.

"Hey Sammy," Bobby said.

"Dude what the hell is this?" Dean demanded as he threw the book down. He'd not meant it to come out that way but he was surprised and feeling sick.

Sam stared at the notebook on the coffee table for a minute before his head dropped slightly and his shoulders hunched. He turned silently and walked down the hall wanting to get out. Opening the back door he took a step out before he looked up and gasped.

"Sam," John said quietly.

Sam stared back at his father standing just in front of the Impala. He couldn't seem to move, frozen in fear by the sight of the man standing no more than five steps in front of him. His heat started to beat wildly in fear and he felt a cold sweat break out on his back.

"Sammy we talked about getting the research correct, right son?" He asked softly.

The question sent a chill through his entire body as he bowed his head slightly and felt like he was going to throw up. He knew what was coming next and there'd be no way to keep Dean or Bobby out of it. He nodded without looking up. A body quickly brushed past him and stood almost directly in front of him. He didn't have to look up to know it was his brother. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and added fear. Dean coming to his rescue only made things worse in the end.

"Hey Dad," Dean said.

Before he could even try to get Dean to go away Bobby was standing beside him. A hand gently rested on the back of his neck.

"You had a quick trip back. Looks like you found trouble," Bobby said.

John nodded. "Bad intel. Bastard cut my arm up good. Consecrated iron rounds didn't work."

Sam stiffened slightly. "Sorry," he whispered.

Bobby lightly rubbed his thumb over Sammy's neck to try and sooth him. There was no way he'd let the boy get hurt this time.

"You need some help with this? Give me a sec and we'll head back," Dean offered.

"Nope. Silver blade did the trick," John answered and moved his attention from Dean over to Sam.

"Good," Bobby said. "Come on is. I'll make breakfast since we're all up and you can tell us all about it."

John took a step forward. "Dean, clean all the munitions in the trunk then you can have breakfast. Sam and I need to have a little talk."

The words sent a shiver through the younger teen.

Dean scowled but nodded reluctantly. "There's a lot in there, Dad. It'd go a lot faster if Sammy helped out."

While Sam appreciated his brother trying to help him his heart sank. He already knew his father wouldn't go for that. He was going to be sporting welts for days on his back from his dad's belt. He just knew it.

"John why don't you help Dean bring in some of the artillery and he can clean them on the kitchen table while you tell us all what happened," Bobby suggested not wanting Sammy out of his sight with John around, not with what he'd read in the boy's journal.

"I don't think so," John said as he looked from Bobby to Dean to Sam. He took a step forward.

It suddenly struck Sam that he didn't need to keep anything a secret any longer and maybe he wouldn't have to take anymore punishments like he had been. He trusted his brother; he trusted his uncle and he really needed his father back. With tears in his eyes he shifted slightly closer to Bobby as he brought his head up. "Christo," he whispered.

John's eyes went black. "Well took you long enough to grow a pair kid. I will finally have my revenge on John Winchester. Warming up with you has been fun Sammy, now I get to take on the whole family," the thing that possessed John's body said.

It was the last thing the young teen saw before he was flying through the air and landing hard on the ground below. Pain flared throughout his entire body. There was yelling, things breaking, Shadow was growling and barking. He heard his brother scream his name before darkness swallowed him whole.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. No Winchester or animal were hurt in the making of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story.

**This chapter's warnings: **Not much for this one. I think hurt boys goes without saying or this entire story but there's some language and a very angry Dean. Anything else would give too much away I think…

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 7

_John's eyes went black. "Well took you long enough to grow a pair kid. I will finally have my revenge on John Winchester. Warming up with you has been fun Sammy, now I get to take on the whole family," the thing that possessed John's body said._

Still reeling from what he'd read in his brother's notebook Dean stood momentarily frozen at the black eyes and the hiss of words that came out of his father. A split second later rage fired through his body. Not only had his bastard father left him alone to die, had been hurting his little brother without his knowledge but he'd actually allowed himself to get possessed as well.

A small voice deep down inside that was trying to keep him from going totally crazy kept repeating that it wasn't his father that did that. It really wasn't his fault. It wasn't like his father had asked for any of this to happen.

Then a louder voice, angry and seething, spoke up reminding him he'd almost died probably before his father had been possessed. The quiet voice was silenced for a mere few seconds before his gut screamed _protect Sammy_.

Dean stepped back to box his little brother between himself and Bobby but he'd wasted a precious few seconds with his internal debate.

One second Sammy was behind him and the next he was flying through the air. Almost as if an invisible hand reached out, grabbed his brother and flung him off the porch.

Dean's carefully controlled anger quickly turned to uncontrollable rage as his little brother bounced like a rag doll on the ground in slow motion before skidding to a halt face down in the dirt. He began to hear a high pitch whine in his ears as his little brother didn't move. Sammy was _never_ that still.

His gut churned, his breathing sped up and his hands clenched tightly. He began to shake slightly as his eyes shifted from his brother to his father.

"You son of a bitch," Dean growled. He was so enraged he didn't care that it was a demon in his father. He was so angry that it didn't matter. Dad left him to die. The demon had hurt Sam right under his nose. Both needed to pay and he had no problem how it happened.

He had no weapon except his anger and Dean knew without a doubt it would be more than enough. "I'm going to enjoy killing you."

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It took a lot to surprise Bobby Singer. And surprised he was as John's eyes turned black and Sammy was flung out into the yard. He quickly tried to figure out if there was a fast way to dispatch a revenge demon. He'd never fought one before and hoped it would be as easy as a regular exorcism to get it out of his friend.

The Latin rolled easily off his tongue saying the usual words that would generally cast out any demon he'd come into contact with. There were always exceptions, tweaks to the actual words that had to be said, or actual items that had to be used, but it was better than nothing.

He heard Dean growl something lowly then rush off the porch and attack his own father. Knowing the words wouldn't be enough and knowing the kid would leave himself vulnerable in his current enraged sate, he pulled a knife out of its leather holder on his side and rushed to join Dean on the ground below. The boy went down hard as John caught him with an upper cut and Bobby stepped into his place.

Bobby blocked a punch from John with his forearm which knocked the knife out of his hand. He bent back slightly as he dodged another punch. Swinging as he leaned back in, he connected hard with John's jaw. The hit snapped his friend's head back and he said a silent apology to the man trapped inside. An unseen force suddenly shoved him hard and he staggered back a few steps.

Shadow ran in and he'd not even realized the pup was there. The dog was so enraged that her muzzle was rippling and had splatters of blood on her maw. With the distraction from Shadow the pressure on his chest was gone and he rushed back into the fight. He saw the rents in John's jeans and knew that Shadow had bitten him several times.

He swung out and barely missed hitting John. Then he was flung back, this time with a stronger force, and hit a wall just below his porch. He struggled to take a breath where he was stuck. His feet couldn't touch the ground and his arms couldn't reach anything helpful. The pressure on his chest began to grow as if it was trying to force him through the wood paneling he was being squished against.

Bobby wheezed in a breath as he looked around for the boys. He couldn't move his head, but in his peripheral vision he could see Dean kneeling next to Sammy while he checked on him.

He quickly moved his attention back to John and hoped the demon would keep focused on him. Dean wasn't paying attention to what was happening around him at all, concentrating more on his brother. It left them vulnerable to the demon and no way for Bobby to stop it.

John was laughing. A deep belly laugh that he'd never heard before. "Pretty words but you already know they have no effect on me junk yard man."

Shadow jumped in once more and clamped her jaw just above his boots.

"Oh and this pretty little puppy that the boys love so much?" John said with a grin that spoke of nothing but evil.

"No don't," Bobby said his eyes wide and his stomach jumping.

John raised his arm and was about to bring down a fatal blow on the beloved dog when Dean screamed.

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Dean looked up in time to see his father talking to Bobby and raise his hand to the dog. "NO!"

The older teen jumped up, his face contorted in a mask of rage as he leapt towards his father and tackled him to the ground.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean screamed as his vision shimmered with a red tinge.

The demon shook his head in surprise as they landed hard on the ground.

"You've taken everything from me!" Dean screamed as he sat on John's chest and swung hard. Blood spurted out onto John's face and coated the teen's knuckles.

The demon raised an arm as it tried to ward off the next blow.

"You're not taking her!"

Lefts and rights in quick succession left a trail of blood from John's eyes to where it dripped down his chin and onto his throat.

The demon laughed even as John's body began to choke on the blood in his throat.

"I may be disposable to you asshole but Sammy isn't!" Dean screamed as the laughter enraged him further.

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Sam lifted his head slightly off the ground. He hurt everywhere and he could hear Dean screaming and Bobby yelling. Shadow was barking and growling. What was going on?

He glanced around without moving too much. He saw Dean hitting his father then being tossed aside as his dad laughed.

The young teen watched his father get to his feet, shocked to see his face a mess of blood and dirt.

His brother lay on the ground for a moment, not moving, as if he'd been stunned. Sam's breathing sped up slightly, fearing for his brother. Then a second later Dean was sluggishly moving, his arms taking a moment to get coordinated enough to get to his knees.

His father was watching Dean and smiled as he took a step towards him.

Sam wanted to warn Dean but he didn't have to. Shadow leapt in again and clamped down on his father's thigh making his dad curse.

Bobby suddenly moved away from the house and reached out in time to stop a heavy blow from landing on his brother.

He took a shaky breath. As much as he wanted to land a few shots of his own he would never have a better time to do this. Once he started he had to finish or they would all be vulnerable.

Barely making a sound and not moving an inch he began to speak the incantation he'd memorized just after Bobby promised to bring them here to safety. He reviewed the words every day in hopes of freeing his father and concentrated on getting the words out correctly without being seen. If he messed this up there wouldn't be another chance.

Even to his own ears the words were so soft he could barely hear them and still he feared that he'd be heard. But as he spoke the final words of the first part of the ritual his voice got louder. His possessed father turned to look at him.

"NO!" John yelled.

Their eyes locked as the final word was spoken.

John's head reared back as he roared. A red churning cloud erupted from his mouth and exploded above him into nothingness. Eerie silence settled around them for a moment as John gracefully collapsed to the ground.

Slowly Sam struggled to his feet and went over to his father. He swallowed heavily as he saw blood seep from open wounds and bruises were already forming. With a shaking hand he reached out and felt for a pulse. He closed his eyes in relief as he found a strong one but it was short lived as he knew there wasn't much time.

He looked up to Bobby and Dean who were hovering above him. He focused solely on Bobby not wanting to see the look in his brother's eyes. "We need to get him inside. He needs to be bound with rope dipped in holy water."

"What?" Dean gasped. "Sammy what the hell? Hasn't he been through enough? Dude I know about what he did to you, but it wasn't dad. You know that right?"

Sam didn't take his eyes off Bobby and saw recognition in the man's eyes.

"He's not finished," Bobby muttered.

"Finished what?" Dean asked looking from his brother to Bobby.

"I have to get some things," Sam said as he wearily stood up. He needed a few moments alone to settle himself down before getting to the next part. He wasn't sure he wanted to think too much about what he had to do next.

The boy felt the man he considered an uncle reach out and steady him. "Sam you know what you're messing with, right boy?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Make sure he's tied down real well. If I screw this up I can't contain him," he said as he made his way towards the house.

In his peripheral vision he saw Dean take a step towards him and then Bobby stop him.

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"Bobby?" Dean asked quietly as he watched his brother disappear into the house. He needed to go after him and make sure Sammy was ok.

"Shut up and help me," Bobby said.

Dean yanked his arm free. "What just happened here?"

Bobby took off his hat, scratched the back of his head as he looked down over John and placed his hat back onto his head. "Give me a hand Dean."

"No. Not until you tell me what is going on," Dean said with a decisive shake of his head. When he didn't get an answer he grabbed Bobby's arm. "Look I didn't know what was going on. You're right to be pissed at me Bobby I should have known. I should have known dad was possessed and Sammy was getting hit. But I didn't. You need to believe me. I would have stopped all of this before it got so out of hand."

Bobby looked at the boy. "I know Dean and I don't blame you. But this is some heavy shit your family is in and I don't have time to explain it to you."

"Give me the Coles Notes version then. Please Bobby I need to know what's going to happen so I can make this easier on Sam," Dean pleaded.

Bobby shook his head. "The thing is Dean you can't. He's started it and he's got to finish it. If he doesn't then the demon will be right back in your father stronger than before. Chances of getting it out a second time are . . . well there almost isn't one. Would take more than what little strength you or he has at your young ages."

Dean stared at Bobby for a second. "Wonderful," he said softly. Looking down at his own bloodied hands he wondered where all the anger had disappeared to now that the fight was over.

"Hey," Bobby said as he knelt down next to his father. "Could've been worse."

"Yeah?" Dean asked as he knelt down on the other side of his dad. He looked over the damage that he'd inflicted on his dad's face and was surprised at how much blood there was. He looked over at his friend and raised an eye brow. "How?"

"I thought you were going to kill him," Bobby said as he felt around John's neck to check his pulse.

"So did I," Dean admitted softly as he rested a hand over his father's wrist needing just a little contact. He gave a soft gentle squeeze as if to say he was sorry. And he found he truly was a little sorry and still very angry. He sighed at his confusing feelings and shoved them aside.

Bobby stared down at the unconscious form of John Winchester. The demon still resided inside of him even though it had been considerably weakened. The first part of the ritual had been completed. The easy part was over. The hardest part was still to come.

"Um, Uncle Bobby?" Dean asked uncertainly. The man was staring at his father and was making him feel uncomfortable. There was fear plain as day on the man's face, which he never showed. "What is it?"

"Grab his legs. Let's get him inside and get this over with," Bobby said as he stood up deliberately ignoring the question.

Dean nodded suddenly feeling numb and a little sick as he helped move his father into the house. He had a lot of questions, but now was not the time. They could wait. He had to take care of his family first. Then he would get the answers he needed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story.

**This chapter's warnings**: Some swearing and the blood ritual. If the idea of the blood ritual totally freaks you out, skip this chapter as chapter 9 will start right after this one's over with next week's post.

**Shadows**

By infinite shadow

Chapter 8

Dean looked down at his father as he finished tying the soaked rope around his father's wrists. The knots were tight enough that he couldn't get out, but not so tight that it was cutting of circulation. A fine line but he hoped he'd done it right. If this did work rope burns and cuts would be the least of his worries, but a hurt that could be avoided.

As angry as he was with his father he was not about to hurt him when he wasn't able to defend himself. Dean could fight low down and dirty but couldn't find it within himself to even tighten the bonds so it pinched the skin. He shook his head as he felt Bobby step up beside him.

"Clean him up a bit, will you?" Bobby asked softly and handed a small bowl with water and a cloth.

Dean looked at the cloth for a moment debating for a second with himself. He'd rather check on Sammy but figured the kid might need a moment to pull himself together. Whatever he had planned it wasn't going to be pleasant, or Bobby would have said something and Dad wouldn't be tied to the bed.

He nodded as he took the cloth and heard Bobby leave the room. "Dad if you're in there, hang on. We've got you. Don't give up 'cause I'm kicking your ass later. I mean it," he whispered as he gently moved the cloth over battered skin.

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As silently as he could Sam had slipped back out of the house to the Impala as he heard Dean and Bobby talking across the hall. The young teen pulled the keys out of his jeans pocket and as he brushed his fingers over them reminded himself to thank his awesome older brother for teaching him how to pick pockets. He didn't believe him a few years ago when Dean had told him this trick would come in handy and it had. In spades.

The trunk opened with ease, he opened the false bottom, retrieved the items and closed it all back up without thinking twice. He was back in the house in moments and looking down at the few instruments lying on the bed that he needed to get his father back.

It had a price, all magic did. A blood ritual was not to be taken lightly, and he wasn't. He was prepared, had all the right things. He hadn't had to look very far either. They were all in the trunk of the family car and had been for years. Sam didn't even let himself think why they were in there. He just hoped his father had never expected this to happen.

He closed his eyes and realized that he was ultra calm. He wasn't worried and wondered if that should worry him. Opening his eyes he reached down and picked up the paper which held the ritual he needed to complete now. His hand was shaking and he was a little relieved. Maybe he was a little worried.

He reviewed the words and made sure he had everything. It was a little scary that the page was slightly incomplete. The last line of instructions had been torn away but the full ritual was clearly mapped out and he was sure it would work this time, now that he definitely had the right knife.

She was a beauty, or he thought someone would think so. It had a mother of pearl handle, intricate runes carved up the blade and it was so sharp he knew it would cut through skin like a hot blade through butter. The very thought sent a shiver through him but it was truly a small price to pay.

The pine bowl was plain, unadorned of symbols or paint. It was old, chipped and had been used before, the dark stains in the bottom and around the sides of the bowl made that clear.

Sam chewed his bottom lip for a second as he picked up the bowl. All the tools he needed were now in his hands, but really they weren't much and he hesitated. Doubt made him pause and he put the items back down onto the bed. He had to be sure, the ritual said so, in fact it was one of the first instructions. If he wasn't sure, any hesitation would make the spell useless.

He took a slight step back from the bed and closed his eyes. He concentrated on taking slow deep breaths to settle his mind and his slightly shaking hands. He was sure, he knew without a doubt this would work.

His eyes opened and he stepped back to the bed. Scooping up the items he squared is shoulders and left the room. A few steps later Sam stopped outside his father's room. Bobby stood just outside of it and Shadow was sitting next to him almost like a sentry. He looked up just enough to look at the wall near Bobby's face; he just couldn't seem to bring himself look at the man.

"You ready for this boy?" Bobby asked gently.

Sam swallowed heavily and nodded once.

Bobby nodded and he reached out to touch Sam's shoulder in support. He wasn't surprised when the boy stepped back slightly to avoid the touch. "You are not alone in there. Don't forget that. Dean and I are as much in this ritual as you are. Understand me?"

Sam nodded once.

"Good. Now I need you to wait here for a minute. Can you do that?" Bobby asked.

Sam frowned but still didn't speak. He nodded once again.

"Good boy," Bobby said and went past him into the boy's room. He was out a moment later the items that would be needed after in easy reach for Dean. This time when he put a hand on the younger teen's shoulders the boy jumped slightly but allowed the small comfort.

They entered John's room together and Bobby felt the younger Winchester tense immediately.

Sam's face was set even though it tore at him slightly to see his father trussed up to the iron bed rails. It really was to protect them all, even to protect John, but he didn't have to like it. His father would be out of the restraints as soon as possible.

He couldn't take his eyes off of his dad's face. Dean had just finished washing away the blood, and Sam wished his part would go just as easily.

He heard his brother whisper his name but he couldn't look at him too afraid of what he'd see. So he kept his focus on his father.

He stood an inch away from the bed and looked down over his father. Without knowing it his brother had already started the ritual. His father's face had been cleaned with holy water. He had to begin now. No backing out, no second guessing this decision. It was now or never.

Pulling out is pocket knife, he dripped holy water on it and used it to rip off his father's shirt. Sam was careful that the blade didn't touch his father's skin, and was thankful that the shirt was so worn out he could have probably just ripped it with his hands.

He swallowed heavily and took a deep breath. The pocket knife was put aside and the ceremonial blade was picked up with reverence. The plain bowl was moved down next to his father's side and he began to chant words he didn't really understand. As he spoke the knife rested in both palms and he held it out over his dad's body.

The knife was brought back towards him and as his gripped it on one hand he brought it down across the other. He barely felt the blade bite through skin and heard Dean hiss in sympathy next to him. He wondered if he'd cut too deep as warm blood flowed freely from his palm to his wrist and down to his elbow even before he'd finished slicing through his hand.

Blood dripped down onto the sheets and the floor and he began to feel light headed. He was still speaking the words, still chanting, and looking for the wooden bowl.

The blade was taken from his hand and the bowl was shoved into his hands. It only took a second for his blood to pool into the bowl as he continued to chant. Bobby nudged his arm and held out a dropper of holy water and a small bowl of crushed green herb. He added them, glad that his uncle had brought them to his attention as he'd almost forgotten them. Then his fingers were dipping into the warm liquid, stirring slightly before he reached forward. He drew symbols on his father's forehead, then over his heart and finally over his belly.

He kept chanting. He knew that was the key until the demon left. He had to keep chanting. It was a long spell. It was almost a full page of small words that had to be spoken three times. Three sets of everything and he hoped he could take three slashes to his palm and keep conscious before this was over.

Next to him Bobby still held the blade and Sam glanced over at him. At the encouraging nod he continued to chant until he reached the end of the words and started again. He put the bowl back down on the bed and reached for the knife once again.

He was surprised when Bobby shook his head. The knife was still dripping with his blood and his uncle cradled it in the palm of his hands. He held the knife over John's chest for a moment before bringing it back and slicing through his palm as well.

Bobby handed the knife to Dean and Sam kept chanting the words. Bobby repeated all of Sam's actions and held onto the bowl until the chant ended for him. Then as Sam started the chant from the beginning Bobby handed Dean the bowl as he too repeated their actions.

As Sam finished chanting the words a purplish white light exploded into the room. John seized upwards and let out an agonized scream before all light was sucked out of the room.

An echoing shriek filled the room and the temperature seemed to dip thirty degrees. Wind came at them from every direction and static electricity ran over their skin.

Sam couldn't breathe, couldn't see and couldn't feel anything except a thousand volts rushing over his skin. He wanted the noise to end. He knew he was screaming but he couldn't even hear himself. His cheeks felt wet and he knew he was crying. His hand was soaked and he knew he was bleeding badly and he didn't care.

Suddenly a boom filled the room. The wind ended and light returned to the room.

Sam lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He felt drained and empty. His eyes fluttered closed and he just lay still trying to get his bearings back.

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Dean cautiously sat up and looked around the room. The place was trashed. The windows were broken, the bed was listing dangerously, bookshelves were toppled over and books were strewn all over the room. As his eyes scanned the room his eyes fell on his little brother laying too far away on the other side of the room his eyes closed and still.

"Sammy?" He said softly.

Sam's eyes slowly opened. "Yeah?" He replied softy as he struggled to sit up.

Bobby was sitting up as well and shoved a small night table off his leg. He noticed both boys looking at him but he directed his attention to the younger brother. "Next time you want to do a blood ritual Samuel you damn well warn me first, or better yet talk to me first."

Dean looked back to his little brother. Sam had no colour and he was shaking badly. He was staring up at the bed with an odd look on his face. Dean figured he was hoping the ritual had worked but wasn't betting on it.

Bobby slowly got to his feet and bent over the bed slightly to check on John.

Dean looked at the broken bed leg and grabbed a few heavy books. With Bobby's help they leveled the bed as best they could. A temporary fix until his father was well enough for the bed to be fixed properly.

"Will he be ok?" Dean asked softly as he stepped towards his little brother. Sammy hadn't moved since sitting up.

"How the hell should I know?" Bobby snapped.

"Is he alive?" Sam whispered.

"Yeah buddy he is," Dean said as he crouched next to him.

Sam nodded. "Then we wait."

"Wait?" Dean said in surprise. He thought this little ride was over. "For what?"

"To see if it worked you idiot. Go clean yourselves up. I'll stay here and watch over John," Bobby said as he re-tied the rope around John's wrists. They had loosened during the ceremony and they had to keep him tied up until they were sure.

Sam nodded and swayed slightly as he got to his feet.

"Dean," Bobby said.

"Yeah?" Dean replied as he grabbed his little brother's arm to keep him upright.

"He needs water and sports drink. He's too young to be messing with this shit. This would've knocked me off my feet for a day or two. It's gonna knock him out for a week. He needs rest, fluids, poultice for his wounds and specific wards to protect him while he heals. I'll get the wards but watch him carefully. He's open right now to the spirit world until your father wakes."

Dean frowned. None of this made any sense. "Uncle Bobby what?" He started to ask but got cut off.

"That ward," Bobby said as he tapped the charm on Dean's chest. "Will help protect the both of you until I can get something for Sam. Don't argue, don't ask questions, just do as I'm telling you boy. It's important. Save the explanations for later when this is all over."

The older teen pursed his lips slightly as he nodded. "Yeah. All right." He didn't like it but he trusted Bobby.

"He doesn't leave your sight. It'd be even better if you kept constant contact," Bobby kept instructing.

"What?"

"Dean he is completely vulnerable to possession right now. He was already on shaky ground going into this and you're not much better. Whatever the hell was going on shove it aside or we might be doing this for Sam. But so help me boy we are going to talk when this is over," Bobby all but growled at him. "Just look after him. Dress his wounds. Med kit's under the bathroom sink and the other stuff's in your room."

Dean didn't even know where to begin. Put it aside? What the hell did Bobby even know about it anyway? Who the hell was he to tell him what to do?

"Jesus kid," Bobby growled and gave Dean a slight shove towards the door. "Go. Don't make me tell you again. You're dripping blood everywhere."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, anything. He settled on snapping his jaw closed and ushering Sammy out of the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story.

**This chapter's warnings**: A few swear words...

* * *

**Shadows**

By infinite shadow

Chapter 9

Dean allowed Sammy to set the pace as he guided him into the bathroom. He would've preferred to put the kid to bed and bring the medical supplies to him but Bobby's dire warnings had him taking Sammy to the bandages instead.

He kept a hand on his brother's arm as he got the med kit out from under the sink. As he straightened up, big red bag in hand, he finally got a good look at Sammy's eyes. The emptiness in them sent a slight shiver down his spine.

"Sammy?" He asked softly.

Sam blinked a few times before his eyes moved lazily over to look at him. He blinked once more before looking away and dipping his head.

Dean moved his hand to his brother's neck and gave a slight squeeze. "Can you do this in here or would you rather lie down?" He asked as he plunked the bag on the sink and wrapped a towel around Sammy's bleeding hand.

There was no response or even a flinch. The thirteen year old just continued to stare down at his shoes.

"Make a tight fist around that Sammy. Need to stop the bleeding, kay?" Dean said softly. Again there was no response but his little brother clenched his hand as tight as he could around the towel.

Dean couldn't help but be reminded of a much younger Sam who had scraped his knees or hands while out playing. Usually the wounds weren't all that bad. A few minor bruises, scrapes, or maybe enough of a deep gash for bleeding was usually all he suffered. The embarrassment was always harder on him as Sam usually disregarded any cautions from his older brother to be careful when he played. This time the circumstances were way different, but the posture, the withdrawal, and the shaking were exactly the same.

Dean made quick work of cleaning up the superficial wounds. He spoke continuously as he worked with a calm low voice. It was a one sided conversation and he'd expected no less. He'd learned over the years when Sam withdrew it was usually very short lived. All he had to do was have patience, keep talking and wait him out.

"Ok Sammy. You're doing great buddy. Need you to let go of the towel now," Dean said as he pulled gently on smaller fingers. The fingers gave easily and the hand relaxed. He pulled the stained red towel away and inspected the wound. "Not so bad. Just two… Three stitches should do it."

As Dean threaded the needle he started to run out of things to say as he concentrated. So he started humming instead. He began to pierce the tender skin with the needle when he saw his little brother's head shift slightly, just enough to look at him through his bangs. Dean kept his face relaxed as he focused on his task, not wanting to spook Sam back to where he was peeking out from.

"Just about done here Sammy," Dean said with a quiet ease.

His brother didn't respond. If he had Dean would have been surprised. As much as his brother would talk nonstop and argue his point into oblivion he could also clam up like nobody's business. He was pleased to feel him relax a little.

Dean cut the thread and put the awful smelling poultice over his wound. He held the wrist firmly as Sam tried to pull away.

"Sorry. Orders from Bobby," Dean said as he wrapped gauze around the smelly packet and Sam's hand.

He smiled slightly as he could see Sam grimace slightly. "You'll get used to the smell."

"Stings," Sam whispered.

"Yeah. Shows it's working," Dean said.

"Tired," Sam murmured.

Dean nodded. "Just a few more things to do before you can…" he started to say but stopped as his little brother leaned forward and rested his forehead against his shoulder. He froze for a moment before he let the gauze drop and wrapped his arms around him in a gentle hug.

He knew Sammy was falling asleep and really he couldn't blame him, but he couldn't allow it. "Hey Sam? I know you're tired but you gotta stay awake long enough for me to finish, kay?"

There were muffled words from Sam but none of them were understandable.

"Just let me finish with the gauze buddy," Dean coaxed. "C'mon. Sit up."

Gently he pushed Sam up and cradled his little brother awkwardly against his side. Dean rolled the rest of the gauze on the hand and tucked it in. He could cut and tie it later.

"That's it. Let's go," Dean said as he struggled to stand and bring his brother up with him.

"Dean?" Sam mumbled.

"Yeah dude. It's me," he replied softly knowing his brother was floating between slightly away but mostly asleep.

"You need go now. Dad needs silver."

"Already got it Sammy," Dean answered as he gripped him a little tighter and walked him down the hall.

"Havta go fore Dad finishz n t'phone," Sam said slurring his words together.

"Nah. We're staying in tonight," Dean said. He quietly huffed out a breath and leaned against the wall for a minute. He'd quickly wrapped a towel around his own bleeding hand and had hastily tucked supplies in his pocket to deal with it later. He was starting to feel light headed and Sam was getting heavier with each step. He pushed off the wall and started shuffling down the hall again.

"No. Can't," Sam said as his head rolled slightly and he tried to push away from Dean. "Gets you."

"Dad's not here tonight Sammy. No one's gonna hurt us," Dean soothed softly almost choking on the words. His brother had been trying to protect him, all this time. He shook his head as he remembered a few other times he absently listened to his brother telling him Dad needing this or that and he'd go and get them. Sam would be in bed by the time he got back and nothing seemed wrong except for his own angry and confused thoughts.

Dean was pretty much carrying Sam as they went into their room. He pulled a few things closer to the bed's night stand before reaching down and pulling back the covers.

He paused slightly as he shifted his little brother slightly against him and held on a little tighter. He chewed his lip slightly trying to figure out the best way to do this. He had to figure out a way to get some layers of shirt and shoes off Sam before getting into bed without waking him.

He quickly toed off his own shoes before he sat them both down. It only took a second for him to figure out the answer. He grinned ever so slightly with an almost nostalgic look on his face.

"Time for bed Sammy. Gimme a hug," he whispered.

Sam mumbled something and sighed before he leaned forward slightly and lifted up his arms.

Dean's smile grew slightly. Just like when they were kids and he would carry Sammy to bed. First he'd ask him for a hug, then after Sammy's arms would wrap around him, he'd stand up and carry him to wherever he was sleeping that night.

Quickly, but gently, Dean tried to pull off two of the three shirts. He struggled to do it with one hand and they all ended up coming off. His breath caught in his throat as he saw his brother's back.

There were a myriad of bruises, lines of healing cuts and barely healed over welts. His fingers shook as he reached out and barely touched the abused skin. A wave of white hot fury washed over him. "Son of a bitch," he growled out.

"M'sorry," Sam whimpered as his arms lowered and he seemed to cower slightly. "I'll get it right."

The words had Dean pulling his brother tightly against him. "You're safe Sammy. He's not touching you _ever_ again. I'll kill him first," Dean swore as anger lit eyes stared out of his room where the door frame of their father's room was barely visible.

Waking up fully, Sam sighed and squirmed slightly in the tight hold. "It's my fault. I gave him wrong information," he whispered.

Dean glanced over and tried to see his brother's face. He tried to quell the fresh wave of anger that the words had brought forth. "Bad intel doesn't equal abuse Little Man," he tried to say gently but heard the edge in his voice, and worse, felt Sam flinch.

There was nothing else forthcoming from the youngest Winchester and Dean sighed wearily. "Can you kick off your shoes?"

A moment later Dean was trying to get Sam to lay down but his little brother just wasn't cooperating.

"Sam I thought you were tired," he said slightly exasperated.

"Where's dad?" He asked.

"Still tied up. Bobby's with him," Dean replied then grabbed a bottle from the small table. "If you won't lie down then drink this."

Sam took the sports drink. He nervously picked at the bottle's label but didn't drink.

"Ok kid," Dean said as he rested an arm over his shoulders. "What is it?"

Sam leaned into the touch. "I may have just killed us all and you want me to drink this?"

"Well how very apocalyptic of you and yes drink it all," Dean said trying for humor but falling far from his mark.

"You don't understand," Sam said with a slight shake of his head and tried to give the drink back.

"You know Sammy I think I've been pretty patient here. I did the ritual and everything. Granted I read your journal without your permission but, dude, seriously, I'm still having a little trouble with what was in there. I'm tired. I hurt everywhere and really man I have no idea what's been happening or how we even got so completely fucked up. But I gotta tell you if you don't start filling some of the blanks here I'm gonna explode from sheer frustration," Dean said as calmly as he could but he felt anything but calm.

Sam nodded against his shoulder. "Um, ok?"

"Buddy I'm not mad. Really I'm not," Dean said. A soft snort against his shoulder made him sigh and run his badly wrapped hand over his face. "Fine. I'm furious at dad and I'm not too happy with myself me but I'm not going to take it out on you."

"Promise?"

The question was asked so quietly he almost didn't hear it. He looked down and waited for his little brother to look up at him. "Yeah man. I promise. Now spill."

"Fine. Did, um did you read everything?" Sam asked. "Cause if you did you know most of it."

Dean nodded.

"Ok. Then the only thing you don't know is that… Well… Um…," Sam stalled.

"Dude spill it or so help me," Dean threatened.

"This wasn't the first time I did this," Sam whispered and his entire body started to shake.

"What?" Dean asked his eyes going wide.

"I made it worse. I did this to dad and and if if I," Sam started to take shorter breaths as he tried to get all the words out. "If I did this wr wrong the demon will be locked in dad forever and we'll die. He promised me as much. He .. he.."

"Damnit kid breathe," Dean muttered as his stomach dropped away at the words. His brother had tried to do this all on his own and gotten more than burned in the process.

"He promised me he would flail you alive and keep you living long enough to take out little pieces of organs inches at a time before he slowly drained me of blood," Sam said.

Dean tried to get his own panicky heartbeat under control as he turned and stared down at Sammy's tear stained face.

"I didn't know what else to do," Sam whispered as tears continued to stream down his face.

"You should've talked to me. You could've come to me," Dean whispered back.

"I tried. You didn't listen."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story. I've updated since getting it back so any mistakes are from me.

**This chapter's warnings**: Coupla swear words…

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 10

Bobby had sat in a chair trying to puzzle out the last few months together from what he'd read in Sam's journal. He'd tried to figure out just what had happened that had left his friend vulnerable enough to be open to possession in the first place.

With a heavy sigh he shoved the wandering thoughts aside as Shadow whined beside his chair. She was restless, had been since he'd brought her in and had commanded her to lie down next to the chair. Keeping her from Dean, especially when the boy was hurt always made the dog nervous and twitchy.

"Easy girl," Bobby murmured knowing his words or tone wouldn't help any. The dogneeded Dean, but the boys needed time to sort themselves out before he allowed the dog in there with them. He glanced down at her thinking that maybe he was wrong, but if he was it just meant he had company for a few minutes more.

He tiredly got up and checked John's bindings again. If he was going to be working over him he had to ensure it would be safe. After assuring himself the bonds were still tight he checked his friend's wounds.

One of Dean's shots had opened a good slice on John's cheek and he removed the already soiled bandage and replaced it with a new one. It could have probably used a stitch or two but it would do without. He checked on a few other wounds careful to not disturb the ritually placed blood. It had to remain until John woke demon free.

A short while later, sure that the hunter would survive in his current state, Bobby pulled out two small burlap bags out of his pockets.

Shadow sat up and whined loudly at him.

"All right girl. You've been patient enough," Bobby said softly. "Come here."

Shadow sprung up and leapt over to Bobby wagging her tail furiously.

"All right. Settle down. Settle," he said but almost got bowled over by the over enthusiastic dog. "Sit ya stupid mutt."

She did as she was commanded but just barely. Shadow began licking Bobby's face as soon as he knelt next to her.

"Keep that for the boys," he said gruffly affectionate. He pulled out three small oddly shaped iron pieces and clipped them onto her collar. He gave her a rough pet before standing back up. "Dean!"

"Yeah?" A quiet reply came from the other room.

"Call Shadow would'ja? She's underfoot," Bobby shouted even as he gave her a good scratch behind the ears. "Make sure you keep her close boy. I don't want her back in here."

"Shadow," Dean said.

Bobby could barely hear him but Shadow stilled instantly. Her body just about vibrated as she whined and looked up at her master.

He gave her a nod. "Go on," he said softly.

Shadow took off with a delighted bark.

Bobby waited until he heard the thump of her landing on the bed than turned back to business.

There was one more thing he could do to protect the boys from the demon. The less they knew the better and he knew with Shadow in the room the boys would probably stay put.

He felt the need for haste though, just in case the boys did not stay where they were. He took out an alcohol pad from the med kit and cleaned a couple of places on John's chest and belly, being extremely careful to avoid the blood from before. Then he took out his pocket knife and opened it. He opened another alcohol pad and cleaned his knife.

From a canvas bag he pulled out a smudge, a ceramic plate, bowl and several small vials. He grabbed the other small burlap bag and emptied the small amulets out into the bowl. The items in the small vials all went into the bowl and the last of the holy water from the blood ritual was added last.

This was a much more simplistic ritual and one the boys didn't need to know about. He took a deep breath and calmed his thoughts and his heart. He thought about John – the man, his friend, the father, the widower.

He picked up the small dried oblong package of dried herbs he'd made himself. He'd included sage, lavender, sweet grass, mugwort and cedar to the mix. Lighting the herbs he blew out the flame and coaxed the embers to continue to burn. Then he slowly walked around the room cleansing the room of any residual effects from the demon. He breathed in the aroma and left himself relax slightly. He took his time and took the item around the bed twice just to be sure. Then he picked up his knife and held the smudge under his hand. He watched as the smoke slowly encircled his clenched hand around the base of the blade and wound its way up and around the tip.

When he felt satisfied he placed it on the ceramic plate next to the bed and he swallowed heavily.

Slowly he made a very small incision on John's chest, just enough to slip the first small amulet under the skin. The incision was small enough that he was able to close the wound with butterfly bandages. He repeated the process four more times.

When he was done he stood back and admired his work. He gave a rueful shake of his head at the butterfly bandages mixed in with the dark bruising, scars, and barely started healing wounds. There was no doubt his friend had been a mess before he'd arrived at his home and he'd only gotten worse since his arrival.

He only hoped now that the healing could begin properly. For all of them.

With a heavy sigh he stepped back and sat down. He'd check on the boys in a bit, but for now he felt the need to just sit and keep watch. The boys had Shadow, granted she was just a dog, but she was better than nothing. And they had each other, no matter how bad it had gotten between the two of them. But if he left the room John had no one, and hadn't had anyone for months. It felt wrong to leave him on his own now.

He starred at the little bandages decorating his front. If the blood ritual worked then what he had just done wouldn't have harmed John any. The markers were close enough to the surface to be removed. But if the blood ritual hadn't worked it would lock the demon inside John's body and keep the body dormant until they could find another solution, even if that meant his death.

Lord help him if it came to that.

Dean already had a precariously brittle handle on his control and Sam wasn't faring much better.

The circumstances for both of their pain troubled and hurt him no end. They would stay with him until this got settled. And they would damn well talk to him if he had to wring their necks in the process to get it out of them.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm down. The fact that this demon had hurt them so badly made him want to beat the crap out of something. It really was too bad the demon had gotten into John. Had it worn a different face this ritual would not have been necessary. He would have ended it and forgotten all about it aside from making sure the boys were ok.

He shook his head slightly at his thoughts. It just wasn't the case. The demon was inside John. His friend was still in there. Sammy's notes had proven that.

There was extra research always on specific demons that weren't hunted. The man had, on some occasions, clawed his way past enough of the demon's hold to try and get a message through. No doubt to be beaten back down. But there were glimpses, slight shifts in his demeanor even since they'd gotten there.

Bobby shook his head and wondered silently how he'd missed the signs especially since they had been right in front of him.

During all his musings John had shown no signs of waking and Bobby was sure the old magic's had taken hold. If the blood ritual hadn't worked then the amulets would hold the demon under.

Wearily he got to his feet and silently made his way across the hall.

The sight almost made him smile. Sam was curled around his big brother. His head nestled on Dean's chest and his arm wrapped tightly around his chest. Dean in return had one arm around Sam's back.

It was the look on Dean's face that notched Bobby's concern up. The boy had no colour, even his freckles seemed to have paled slightly. His head was resting against the wall and he stared up at the ceiling.

"Hey Dean," Bobby said quietly as he moved towards them.

Dean shifted slightly to look at him but didn't respond.

"You're dad's still out," Bobby said answering the question he was sure the kid was thinking. "How are you feeling?"

Dean shrugged and looked away.

Bobby sat next to him on the bed. "You boys did good today."

Dean swallowed heavily and closed his eyes. Yeah right and there really was a man in the moon. God. He'd never noticed his father possessed, his little brother had it all figured out and while being abused he'd found the way to purge the revenge demon from his father's body. And all through the exorcism he'd stood there, like a moron mechanically doing everything that had been done before him so stunned from the day's events that had happened before he had a hard time comprehending they were doing a blood ritual on their own father, led by his baby brother. Yeah right he'd done good. Sammy had been awesome. He'd fumbled everything big time and had been for months. He'd even ignored his little brother when he'd asked for help.

"Hey," Bobby said softly.

The teen opened his eyes.

"Answer my question son. It's important," Bobby said. "How are you feeling?"

Dean swallowed heavily again and his cheek muscles jumped as he clenched his jaw. He began to shake uncontrollably.

"Hey now what's this about?" Bobby asked.

"He tried… I didn't hea… How coul…" Dean whispered and gasped for a breath. "Oh God… How could I have not heard…" He clamped his jaw shut but his chin started trembling.

As the first tear hit Dean's cheek Bobby was uncharacteristically choking up. He was wrapping an arm around him and holding both boys close before he could even think how to even deal with the situation. Dean's pain was silent but he felt the hot puffs of breath against his neck and the tears soak his shirt.

Bobby whispered words of comfort hoping Dean heard and prayed Sam didn't wake.

It didn't last long before the tears stopped and Dean was leaning against Bobby's shoulder just for comfort. Bobby didn't let go until the teen pulled back slightly.

"Sorry," Dean whispered as he wiped a hand over his face. He glanced down at his little brother and was relieved that he had slept through his meltdown.

Bobby shook his head. "Don't sweat it. Want to tell me about it?"

"Not really," Dean answered.

Bobby just stared at him until the teen caved.

"Fine. Sammy tried to tell me a couple of times but I ignored him. I didn't listen because I couldn't get out of my own head to look after him," Dean said softly.

"Uh huh. Somehow I don't think he tried that hard to tell you Dean or you would've clued in. Now why don't you tell me what's been bugging you since we last crossed paths," Bobby said.

Dean shifted uncomfortably on the bed and shrugged. "Nothing's been…"

"You really want to know what I'll do when you finish that lie?" Bobby asked bluntly.

Dean shifted again and sighed heavily. He chewed on his lower lip, then on the inside of his lip. "Do you think," he started to ask then stopped. He yawned then frowned heavily but didn't say anything else.

"Well I think quite often kid. It normally pays to keep one step ahead of you and boy wonder here. Now just spit it out. I ain't gettin any younger here," Bobby said impatiently.

"When do you think dad got possessed?" Dean asked softly.

Bobby almost bit out _How the hell should I know_ but the uncertainty on the teen's face stopped the words instantly. "I don't know. It's not like I'm with you guys that often."

Dean pursed his lips and glanced away before looking Bobby straight in his eyes. "Before or after he left me in that… that… house."

_Oh. _"Guess that depends on what you hunted before you stayed at the house," Bobby said as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Just a spirit. She tried to kill Sammy cause he looked like this Dalton guy that killed her. There were two similar ones before her and then the one Sam and Dad did on their own that put them in hospital with me," Dean answered.

Bobby frowned as he tried to answer. But before he could he watched as Dean's eyes grew as wide as saucers, his hand dove under the covers and came up holding his pearl handed gun aiming at the doorway.

"So what you want to know is did I leave you in that house to die before or after I was possessed?" John asked tiredly from the doorway.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

Author's Notes: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story. I've updated since getting it back so any mistakes are from me.

This chapter's warnings: Lots of swear words and angsty people. ")

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 11

"So what you want to know is did I leave you in that house to die before or after I was possessed?" John asked from the doorway.

Dean felt ice cold as he stared back at his father. He wouldn't let him come any closer. He couldn't. He had to protect Sam. He'd been failing his little brother and there was no way that was going to continue.

Shadow whined at the sudden change in the room and shoved her nose at Dean's side.

"It's what you've been struggling with, isn't it?" John asked softly as he frowned at his son's reaction. Dean had never intentionally aimed a weapon at him and he had no doubt it was loaded. He could see hesitation, anger and fear in his oldest son's eyes and body language. It just increased his confusion. The only thing he knew for sure was he was at Bobby's and had faint memories of leaving a wounded Dean behind at a badly worn down house. There were other memories that were even fainter, but that was the first one that came to mind when he saw his son.

How he'd ended up at the salvage yard trussed up to a bed, bloodied, bruised and cut up beyond belief just seemed to be on the outskirts of what he could remember. John rubbed just below his raw, bloody wrists as he tried to ease the ache.

After the initial shock of being tied down to the bed had passed, he'd been relieved that they were at Bobby's. The knots had been secure, but not secure enough. He'd twisted and pulled and yanked and worked his way free. He knew there were slivers of rope embedded in his skin and he didn't care. The open wounds stung, throbbed painfully and bled openly, but it was more important to connect with his children, make sure they were ok.

Dean blinked sluggishly at the question. He had wondered when his life had come to mean so little, when he did everything for his family. Why it had been so easy for his father to leave him behind to die, alone, without a second thought. And after, when he'd thought it was all over, after he'd survived, he'd been tossed out to the enemy once again before he'd been well enough to travel for more than a few hours at a time. He was digging up graves for salt and burns then taking on a second or third job in the same night. Injures had no meaning. Slap a band-aid on it and keep going, going, going until there was nothing but a continuous never ending hunt.

While it still bothered him to no end, ate at him, tore him up inside that he was worthless, it didn't matter right this second. Keeping Sammy safe now was the only objective that meant anything.

"John, you feeling ok?" Bobby asked as he stood up and took a hesitant step towards his friend, unsure if it was to put a buffer between the man and his children or if it was because John looked like he was about to fall on his face.

Shadow stayed where she was tucked right next to Dean. Her eyes never leaving John.

John looked down as if assessing the damage for the first time. "Yeah."

"Well why don't we get you checked out properly in your room," Bobby suggested, taking another cautious step forward. If Dean's reaction was any indication to go by the boys were not ready to see their father quite yet. He had to get John squared away so he could get Dean tended to as well.

John shook his head. "I'm fine. You ok, son?"

Dean bristled at being called that in such a quiet and calm way. As if he cared. Asking in a tone just like the man his father used to be almost a year ago would have addressed him after being injured. But he didn't know, he couldn't tell for sure who this really was, father or demon. On top of that he'd not been able to tell for months that there had been a demon in his father. As much as he wanted this to be his real father now, he just didn't know, not for sure. Without knowing for sure there was no way he was getting any closer to his little brother. "I'm good. I don't want you here," he said plainly.

John took a step into the room frowning slightly.

Shadow sat up and growled lowly in her throat.

Dean eased the safety off the gun and held a little tighter to his brother. His stomach recoiled slightly as his mind couldn't help but think of how badly he'd failed his little brother in the last few months. "Shadow," he whispered.

She whined but the growl stopped. She shifted so she was looking at John and Bobby before she sat back down, lying against Dean once more.

Sammy sighed slightly in his sleep and shifted to get a more comfortable position. Then he yawned still mostly asleep but he could hear the voices around him. Something was telling him he had to wake up right now, but he knew Dean was there, so things had to be ok.

"Dean, son, it's me," John said as he brought up his open hands slightly, palms out. There were deep scores circling his wrists that needed tending, but he did his best to ignore it. "The demon's gone."

The eldest son shook his head slightly as his thumb drew back the hammer. "I don't believe you. I can't. Step back," he whispered firmly as he went pale.

Sam felt his brother shaking slightly and his eyes cracked open even though he didn't want to wake up.

"Now hold on," Bobby said as he turned to face Dean. "Just give me a minute to check. Don't do anything you might regret boy."

"I already have those," Dean answered not looking at Bobby.

"John don't," Bobby warned, knowing it wouldn't take much for the older teen to pull the trigger as he saw the man about to step forward. "Dean, take a breath here. I did some things you don't know about to protect all of us."

"Dean?" Sam asked his voice whisper soft from sleep, his face crumpled in confusion.

"S'ok, Sammy," Dean murmured to him and rubbed his arm, his focus never leaving his father. "I've got you. No one gets to you this time."

John cleared his throat.

Bobby glared at him, warning him to back off.

Dean's finger was hovering just over the trigger. "Don't. Just leave. Please. Just go," he whispered.

John shook his head. "Sammy, you ok?" he asked as he took a step forward.

Shadow lifted her head barely an inch off her paws and growled lowly as her hackles rose and her muzzle rippled.

Dean froze. It was like he was seeing a monster advancing on them. He shifted, pulling his little brother tighter against him tucking his face into his chest.

Seeing John start to move, Bobby knew he was already too late but he reached for the weapon anyway hoping to keep the boy from shooting his own father.

Dean squeezed the trigger, his hand recoiling slightly up into Bobby's hand. The sound echoed in the room, sounding louder than it really was, and John went down in a heap to the floor. Shadow snarled, then barked several times in quick succession as she jumped down from the bed. She was on John a second after he hit the ground her paws dug at him and she growled and snarled over him.

"God Damn," Bobby swore as he wrenched his hand away, tucking it under his other one and held it tightly against his chest. He could feel it burn and it brought tears to his eyes at the sudden pain. "Shadow einsperren!"

Immediately the dog stopped and moved quickly away.

"Christ Dean what the hell is wrong with you!" Bobby demanded

John groaned from where he was lying on the floor. He rolled onto his side and slowly made his way onto his knees. "Dean?" he asked confused.

Bobby was looking at his friend's wound from across the room, but it looked to be just a flesh wound on his upper arm. He was furious. His arm ached from the burn, his head hurt from the report of the gun and he was just plain angry that Dean had actually pulled the trigger. Pulling his hand away from his chest, he took in the red angry swollen flesh and bristled.

"Damn it kid, what the hell?" he demanded as looked over to the bed about to tear the kid a new one, his anger in full steam, but the bed was empty. His heart lurched slightly as he realized Dean had wrenched his scared little brother out of bed and shoved Sammy into the corner. His death grip on his sibling's shirt was still there and he still managed to stand in front of him.

Shadow was right beside Dean. Her ears were back, her head was bowed slightly and her focus was solely on John.

The older teen was staring wide eyed at his father. He was shaking slightly. His arm was fully extended with the gun still aimed directly at John. Dean was breathing hard and his lower lip was trembling slightly. For a second Bobby thought he was upset that he'd shot his father, but he was wrong. It was pure unadulterated anger.

The material around his father's arm was ripped and blood flowed freely down his arm. Dean just wanted him to walk towards him again. He wasn't sure why he'd hit his arm. He'd wanted his heart, or his head. Something he couldn't stand up from. Bastard deserved no less. It was a waste of a shot. He should've just taken him out. Sammy would've been safe then. He'd screwed up again.

He'd shot his father. He'd done that and he couldn't find it in himself to be sorry. He was angry, seething, filled with rage. "Get out," he said softly. _Get up. Take a step towards me again. I want another shot. Damn it! Give me another shot!_

John's hand slowly moved to cover the wound. He blinked in surprise. "Dean, I…"

"Nothing you say will make a difference. Get out," he said. The words were calm but he was anything but.

John looked like he wanted to argue but nodded. He used the wall to support himself until he could stand, leaving bloody handprints on the wall before he turned and left the room.

Bobby looked at Dean, trying to figure out what to say when empty eyes turned to look at him.

"I should have killed him while I had the chance," he whispered and blinked once. "Why didn't I just kill him? Things would be so much easier now."

Slowly Bobby stepped around the bed and stopped in front of Dean. "Give me the gun," he said calmly.

Dean glanced down to his hand then up at Bobby. His eyes were wide and he was breathing hard. "I… I can't."

Bobby nodded. "Yes you can. Just let me take it."

The older teen swallowed heavily as he glanced at the door then back to Bobby. "How can I protect Sammy without it?"

"You have Shadow and I can help you," Bobby answered. "Will you let me?"

Dean shook his head. "No. Sammy's mine… My responsibility. I won't let him get hurt again."

"Dean? Can you lemme out now?" Sammy asked as he tried to get out from behind him.

"No. It's not safe," Dean answered.

"Sure it is, Dean," Bobby said. "He can come out now. Both of you should be sitting down anyway."

"But what if…," Dean started to ask then shook his head.

"He won't be back in here," Bobby assured him quickly, but could still see the doubt. "Trust me, son."

Dean looked at him for a few moments before his shoulders seemed to sag. "It's safe?"

Bobby nodded.

"Do I have to give you my gun?"

"I'd appreciate it if you did," Bobby answered leaving the final decision to the teen.

Dean's eyes darted to the empty doorway again then went back to Bobby. "Will you stay?" he whispered.

"If you want me to."

Dean nodded, then held up his gun with a shaking hand. The handle was stained with blood and the older teen stared at it for a second.

Bobby took the weapon and tucked it in the small of his back. He watched Dean bring Sam out into view. "Hey, I need to look at your hand."

"Just a scratch," Dean mumbled as he watched his little brother closely.

Sammy gasped as he saw blood on the wall. He glanced up at his brother. "You shot dad?" he asked with wide eyes and a voice filled with wonder.

"Yeah," Dean answered with a sigh and a slight one shoulder shrug. "Flesh wound."

"Why?" Sam asked softly.

"He was coming for you," Dean answered in a whisper. "I couldn't let him touch you."

The younger boy nodded, then looked at his uncle. "Was it dad or the demon?"

"I'm sure it's your dad," Bobby answered. "Back into bed you two."

"No," Dean said decisively. "If he stays we go."

"You need sleep and time to heal. Things need to be sorted out and nothing will be gained by runnin' from it," Bobby said.

"I don't want to stay," Sam said quietly. "I don't…"

"We're leavin'," Dean said firmly at the fear in Sam's voice as he looked down at his brother. "Still got the keys?"

"How'd you know?" Sam asked.

"Saw you take them from him earlier," Dean said. "Grab your bag."

"Dean," Bobby growled as he grabbed his arm. "You're sorely testing my patience boy. You two are stayin' put if I have to tie your entire pain in the ass stubborn fool family to their beds."

"You don't get it do you?" Dean countered as he yanked his arm back.

"Enlighten me," Bobby snarled.

"I let this happen. Everything that's happened since leaving Jim's is my fault," Dean yelled.

"No Dean," Sam said as he wrapped his hand gently around his brother's wrist trying to get his attention.

"I wasn't there when Sammy needed me to be. I didn't protect him. The whole reason dad's like this was because I didn't my job!"

"Right. And you can hole up somewhere and do nothing but watch him without sleep and without supplies. With no one to watch your back? And when it gets too much who's gonna watch out for him when something happens to you?" Bobby shot back.

"Dean," Sam said again and gave his brother's arm a gentle shake to get his attention. "It's not your fault. It's not."

Dean looked from Bobby to Sam, between anger and forgiveness. He felt sick, his head was spinning. He knew he had to do something, anything, to protect Sam. He couldn't stay with someone that was a threat to his little brother.

"We can stay here. Dean," Sam whispered. "You always say Uncle Bobby's is the safest place ever."

"But what about…"

"Maybe Uncle Bobby can keep dad away until we heal up a bit to deal with this," Sam answered then looked at his uncle.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah."

"But … Sammy… I…," Dean mumbled it was all too much. He needed to rest, he needed to protect Sam. He felt Shadow whine next to him. Her paws were suddenly on his chest as she tried to lick at his face. Dean tried to push her away and heard Bobby and Sammy talking to her, calling her down. He started to shake and the world tilted traitorously before his eyes fluttered closed and he passed out.

"Dean!" Sam gasped.

"I got em. Damn it," Bobby growled as he cradled the teen in his arms and eased him onto the bed. He pulled away the soiled gauze around Dean's hand and shook his head. He sighed softly as he pulled back his blood stained t-shirt sleeve. "Idiot. You'll do anything for Sammy but can't look after yourself worth shit."

"Dean?" Sam whimpered quietly next to him as he gave him a little shake. "Please wake up. Dean?"

"Sam? You listen to me. He's going to be fine. Just stay with him while I'm gone. I'll be quick ok? Just need to get a few supplies."

Sam glanced at the doorway where his father was then back at his uncle. "Yes sir," he replied shakily.

Bobby got up and gave three sharp whistles. Shadow immediately bounded back into the room and up onto the bed. "Right back buddy. Hang tight."

Sam watched his uncle leave the room before he looked back at the ashen face of his big brother. "You gotta be ok, Dean. I… I shoulda told you… Tried harder… You didn't listen cause you were so upset with other stuff. I… I knew… I didn't want to make you even madder… like dad was… I… I thought you were already mad at me for other stuff," he whispered and his breath caught in his chest a few times.

Bobby rushed back into the room with a small bag in his hands. "You wanna help me out here, kiddo?"

Sam nodded shakily.

"Ok," he replied as he took out alcohol pads and wiped clean the palm of Dean's hand where he'd sliced it for the blood ritual. "When I ask for it you, hand me what I need from that bag. Got it?"

"Yes sir," Sam said softly.

"Good."

It didn't take long, but more than ten stitches later Bobby had the wound closed and was wrapping it in gauze. "Didn't he even notice that he was bleeding?"

"Sometimes he doesn't. He hasn't lately. Just keeps saying slap a bandage on it. Not like it matters," Sam answered as he ducked his head slightly.

"Sammy, how long has this been going on?"

With a soft sigh the boy raised his head slightly. "Felt like forever," he whispered before he stretched out next to his brother and put his head on the pillow.

Bobby taped the gauze and put the rest of the supplies back into the bag.

"Really over, Bobby?" he asked sleepily. "Are we really safe here? Your place is supposed to be safe."

Bobby stopped fiddling with the supplies and looked down at the youngest Winchester. "My place will always be a safe haven for you boys. Don't ever forget that, Sam. And no matter what you're feeling, you're safe now. Get some sleep. I'll be here as long as you need me."

Sam looked at him for a moment. "Will Dean be ok?"

Bobby frowned at him. "You've seen your brother worse off than this."

"Yeah, I guess," the boy said softly as he moved onto his side and curled his hand over his brother's arm.

The older man smiled slightly recognizing the move from when Sam had been much younger. "Get some sleep."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story. I've updated since getting it back so any mistakes are from me.

**This chapter's warnings: **Not too much to warn about his week. There might be some swearing, and one mention directly of Sam's abuse in passing as a memory. Nothing too graphic though.

* * *

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 12

Once Bobby had the kids settled he'd gone into check on John fully expecting the man to be working on cleaning his wound. He was, all be it sluggishly. John was struggling to stay awake enough to keep the gauze on the wound let alone focus on what needed to happen next. It wasn't surprising after all his body and mind and been through.

"Give you a hand?" Bobby offered as he took the cloth and set to work not waiting for an answer.

John looked at him for a minute before looking down to the floor. "How'd we get here?"

Bobby worked on the wound debating his answer. "What's the last thing you remember?"

John frowned. "Everything's kinda fuzzy."

"It'll come back," he assured his friend.

"My boys…," John said softly and frowned deeply.

"They'll be ok," Bobby replied and focused on working on the wound.

"Dean shot me?" John said looking up with complete confusion on his face.

"A lot has happened," he responded knowing that John would remember soon enough in his nightmares. He already knew the wound really was a graze, a flesh wound in the easiest of terms. Another inch and Dean would have missed completely. He figured John went down from surprise, shock and exhaustion more than anything else as he finished taping gauze over it.

"But my son… Dean… He... Hee shhot me," John slurred struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Yes he did," Bobby replied. "Lie down and get some rest. I've got the boys. Nothing you can do until you've healed up some."

"Bobby," John tried to argue even as he did as he was told. "My boys… You've got to tell me…"

"No. Look I'm not keeping anything from you. You're just too exhausted to take it all in. Get some rest. We'll talk when you wake up," Bobby said. He did a quick cursory exam to make sure the other wounds hadn't reopened. A few reapplied bandages later and he pulled the comforter up over his friend and left the room.

He went into the kitchen and brewed a fresh pot of coffee. He felt dirty, gritty and bone weary tired, always did after an exorcism or a blood ritual. Bobby had a coffee, allowed a quick shower and a change of clothes before he headed outside. After everything that happened he needed to put a temporary fix in place.

He hurried into his workshop and pulled out a few items. Then he jogged to the each corner of his junkyard and buried the amulets effectively putting up a slight barrier against evil. It was the best he could do to temporarily protect the yard until he could get the place protected properly with the right wards and proper consecration rituals with the right person.

Fearing he'd taken too long with having left the boys protected with Shadow he hurried back into the house. Shadow was a great protector, but she was just a dog and they had their limitations. He had no doubt she'd protect those boys to her last breath, and even though he was positive John was back to normal, he just didn't feel comfortable with leavin the boys on their own for too long. He felt a small smile creep onto his face knowing what Dean would say if he knew Bobby felt that way.

He stepped just inside the room and found the boys still asleep. Dean was on his back with his head turned in his brother's direction. Sam's arm curled over his brother's stomach. When Dean frowned, shifted slightly and put his arm over his brother's arm as he sighed softly Bobby backed out of the room to let them sleep.

Wearily he settled down on the couch. He believed that the exorcism on John had worked and that the items placed around the yard would temporarily offer some protection there was one more thing that was needed. He reached over, picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"It's Singer. Gotta problem at the yard. I had to do a salt and burn then an exorcism in the last twenty four hours. Need a consecration done and new proper wards put down. Got temporary measures in place but it's tenuous at best."

"Sounds like you've had a rough go and there's probably a lot more to that story than what you're telling me, especially if you're asking for help. You need me there right now? Need about a half hour but I can get the lay minister in to cover on Sunday then I can be on the road," Jim said.

Bobby let out a puff of breath. "Got the kids here."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Well they finally arrived did they? How is Dean doing?"

Bobby pursed his lips and shook his head.

"Bobby? Are they hurt? What happened?" The man on the other end of the phone pressed. When he didn't get a response his voice gentled. "How bad?"

"Jesus Jim. Worse than I've ever seen them. Bad enough that anything you could offer up from your end wouldn't be turned down," he answered.

"You want me to pray for them?" Jim asked softly unable to keep the astonishment from his voice.

Bobby could hear the shocked surprise in the pastor's voice. They had an unspoken understanding about God and had for years. Bobby had voluntarily stepped into the void without religion, believed enough in the words he used for exorcism, but that was as far as it went. Because as far as he was concerned there was no redemption for him, what he'd done to his wife was unforgivable, no matter how forgiving Jim had professed his God to be. "Yeah," he said as his voice closed up over the word. It was hard, but he could ask for the boys he almost thought of as his own, he could ask for his friend, but he could never, ever ask for himself.

"Ok," Jim said.

Bobby nodded even though the preacher couldn't see him. His gut churned uncomfortably as he heard the other man moving around in the background. "When can you get here?"

"I'm packing now," Jim replied.

"Uh no. Might be best to hold off for just a bit," Bobby said then ran his hand over his head in frustration. This whole thing had him twisted up six ways from Sunday and he wasn't even sure what he was asking for anymore.

"What? I thought you said…"

"Yeah well it's not that I wouldn't say no to getting the place back to being safe, but Dean's shut down and about as touchy as a powder keg in a lightning storm. Sammy's withdrawn as well and holdin on to Dean like his life depends on it. And John," Bobby paused and took a breath. "Well he's not exactly been himself. Give me a few days to sort em all out. Anyone else shows up and Dean might head for the hills and take Sammy with him. If he'd been capable he would have when I brought in a doctor friend of mine."

"He runs Bobby and we may never find them," Pastor Jim cautioned. "He's been trained how to run and hide by you and John. Boy knows how to cover his tracks well."

"Says you. Boys can't hide from me. I can find them anywhere," Bobby answered. "They've been through so much already though if they run now … Aw hell Jim those boys can't take anymore. Neither can John. I can get them sorted out. I'll need your help with the yard, but give me time with the Winchesters."

"If you're sure," Jim said hesitantly.

"Yeah," Bobby said.

"All right. Anything changes better or worse I expect a call," Jim said. "I'm going to pack anyway and can be on the road quickly if anything changes."

"Appreciate it," Bobby said. "Is that boy of yours around?"

"No but I can get in touch with him," Jim answered.

"Gotta job for him. Pick up and delivery only. That's it. He's not to do anything else Jim. Make it clear before you give him any further details. He watches his back, front and sides. I mean it. Morgan will not hesitate to double cross him."

"We both know Caleb can handle himself or you wouldn't want him doing this job."

"Yeah," Bobby said as he glanced out the window and fished a crinkly yellowed paper out of his shirt pocket. It really was the only reason he trusted him with doing the delivery in the first place. Kid was good, better than Morgan, but only if he watched his back and was careful. He looked down at the weathered and worn piece of yellowed paper. "Just so we're clear Jim if this goes south in any way, Morgan's life is nothing to sweat over."

"Bobby what is this about?"

"The man needs a relic from the sixteen hundreds, I know where it is, but the same man also nearly killed me a few years back. Caleb doesn't take any chances is all, is that clear?" Bobby demanded. "You make that simple fact clear to your son you got that Jim?"

"Yes Bobby I understand and I will make sure Caleb understands as well," Jim said.

"Ok," Bobby said then took a calming breath. "Ok. Here's where I need him to go."

After hanging up the hunter just sat in the quiet room for a moment. He'd call Caleb in a few days. If that boy wasn't in one piece he'd skin him alive.

With his call completed he went back into the kitchen and refilled his coffee. He leaned back against the kitchen cub boards and rested a palm against the counter top. It was quiet, calm. He almost snorted in disbelief as it was usually anything but that when the Winchesters came to stay. This time had been no different.

He frowned heavily and paused with the coffee mug half way up to his mouth. Maybe he should just check on those boys again. An odd feeling made his skin tingle as he thunked his coffee mug down on the counter and sent him heading down the hallway and back to check on the kids. His heart skipped a beat as he found the room completely empty. He breathed easier a second later when he saw the duffel's on the floor. It still didn't mean much. If Dean decided they had to make a run for it kid could make do with the clothes on his back.

He went into the living room intending on starting the search there and stopped. He could hear voices just outside on the porch. The window in the living room was open just enough for the voices to carry into the house. Not loud enough to know what they were saying, but loud enough to know both boys were there. Taking a second Bobby reminded himself it was one of Dean's favoured places to be with Shadow while staying here.

He got up and moved outside. The boys weren't immediately visible and for a moment he thought they'd gone. Then he heard a high pitched whine that was distinctly a Shadow yawn coming from the side of the house and he headed in that direction.

The boys were sitting with their backs against the wall, legs stretched out; Shadow nestled happily in between them. Both boys had one hand buried in Shadows soft fur. Sammy had his other hand wrapped around a mug. Bobby didn't need to see it to know it had hot chocolate in it. Dean's mug, which no doubt held coffee, sat next to his hip and his hand rested over something.

"Best think twice before you aim that gun at me boy," Bobby groused as he stormed up to them.

"Not for you," Dean admitted softly.

"Right," Bobby said. He was trying to understand the boy's anger, his need to protect his little brother. But the kid was unsteady, his emotions running so high he would crack under the slightest amounts of pressure. He feared the one person Dean wanted to protect so bad would be the one to pay the price. He knew he needed to step in before anything like that happened.

Both boys refused to look at the man, just continued to stare out at the piles of junk at the side of the house through the slats of the railing.

"Dean," Bobby said trying to get his attention.

"G'way Bobby," Dean said, his tone a final dismissal.

That was the end of Singer's patience. He grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet.

Dean gasped as pain radiated from his back into his extremities, his ankle burned where the break had been and little shots of pain danced up his arm where the blood poisoning had been. For a second his mind flashed him back to the house where he was being beaten.

_Dean was being roughly yanked out of his bed and shoved into two other guys. He was twisted around forcefully as two sets of hands clamped over his biceps like manacles._

"Hey!" Sam shouted and tried to get to his brother but was shoved back by Bobby. He hit the siding on the house hard making his back even sorer than it was.

Dean blinked several times in succession as Sammy's voice broke the flashback and he tried to pull Bobby's hands off him.

Bobby glared at him ignoring Dean's quiet protests and his hands weakly pulling at his iron clad grip on the t-shirt. "Stay here, understood?"

"No!" Sam said not moving from where he was.

Dean was shaking as he tried to fight off Bobby's hold. With a quiet sigh he dropped his hands giving in knowing he wouldn't get out of this. "Subsisto Servo Sam Shadow."

"N-no. Dean?" Sam said clearly confused even as the dog sat down next to him with a whine.

Bobby didn't let go partly holding up and partly dragging the teen with him to his workshop. He knew Dean wasn't happy but given his injuries and his exhaustion he had chosen to wait until he was given a fighting chance. He was relieved that the kid trusted him enough for that.

The salvage yard man opened the door and gently shoved Dean towards the workbench as he slammed the door closed behind him. He took a moment while looking at the door to take a breath before turning to look at the kid.

Dean was beyond pale. He was shaking slightly and was holding onto the bench for balance.

"You know if you wanted to talk you coulda just said so. You didn't have to man handle me in here Bobby," Dean said lightly in total opposite to the storm of emotions in his eyes.

"Somehow I didn't think having this conversation with Sammy was a good idea," Bobby shot back holding his temper in place. "Getting you away from him right now isn't the easiest thing now is it?"

Dean couldn't deny that and shrugged lightly not looking away.

0000000000000

Sam looked in the direction that his brother had been taken. He jumped as the workshop door slammed shut.

Shadow whined, stood up and pressed herself against him.

Sam frowned and tried to take a step in that direction but didn't get far.

Shadow leaned against him once more pushing him back against the siding. She looked up at him growling then whined softly.

The youngest boy sighed and thought carefully about the words his brother had spoken before Bobby had pulled him away. "Damn it Dean," he said softly. Dean had ordered Shadow to protect and keep him here. He was stuck until Dean returned and lifted the command.

He sat down on the porch deck annoyed about being stuck but grateful that he wasn't totally alone. He petted Shadow and knew he was protected. Even with the dog here he hoped Dean got back before his father came outside.

He reached over and picked up the gun his big brother had left behind when he'd been taken away by Uncle Bobby. His hand shook as he looked down at the cold steel in his hands. He knew without a doubt he wouldn't be able to shoot his father, but hopefully he could bluff long enough for help to arrive if it came to that.

0000000000000

After several minutes of staring each other down Bobby finally broke the silence. "You finally gonna talk to me or what?"

"Or what," Dean said.

"Wrong answer kid. You're not getting out of here until you do. I don't think I should have to remind you Sammy's waiting on you," Bobby said.

Dean scowled at him.

Bobby sighed. "Fine. Maybe I should start for you then," he suggested.

Slowly Dean shook his head back and forth his eyes never leaving Bobby's.

"Why don't we start with the bang up job you've done with your little brother of late," Bobby said the words tasting bitter as they fell from his mouth. His heart rate stated to pick up slightly. Lord he really didn't want to do this.

"Don't," Dean warned softly.

"Never, in all the time that I've known you, have you ever let Sammy get hurt. Never have you ignored him so blatantly," he said.

"Shut up," Dean whispered paling at the words.

"I saw the marks," Bobby said and the words were enough to make him feel sick. But he'd seen something in the dark forest when he'd gotten to the boys first. After they'd fallen, after Dean had lunged for Sammy and the ledge had given way. Sammy's shirt had been torn on something and at the time he hadn't thought about it, aside from thinking it had been from the fall, but it had bothered him. It was after, when everything had settled down and he'd read the journal that he'd figured it out.

"Stop," he said barely audible.

"You had to have heard something. So you just ignored it, then?" Bobby asked. Oh God he wasn't strong enough to do this. He was going to be sick.

"Shut up Bobby!" Dean yelled still pale but his eyes lighting with fire. He pushed away from the bench.

Good kid. Come on and get angry. Do it faster. "Or you didn't think it mattered?"

Dean was breathing heavy, fury clear on his face. His chin and lip trembled as he tried to form words. "Of course it matters. What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded taking two unsteady steps forward.

"Does it?" Bobby countered.

"Yes!" Dean shouted.

"Did it matter when they left you in that house?" Bobby demanded and had to swallow heavily to keep the burning bile from making an appearance. God kid, take a shot. Do _something_.

"You son of a bitch! That had nothing to do with Sammy!" Dean yelled clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides.

"Sure it did. He didn't stay," Bobby said calmly. "He didn't fight to stay with you."

Dean stepped forward. "He didn't have a choice," he growled.

There was very little space between them now, just enough for a punch to be thrown. "Left you there."

"I WAS FINE!"

"To die," Bobby said quietly.

Dean lunged forward with a howl of rage, swinging as hard as he could at Bobby's jaw.

Bobby easily avoided the punch, grabbed his fist, used it to swing the boy around and held him against his chest. He locked Dean's arms across his own chest and held him tight as he struggled to get away.

"Let me go!" Dean yelled as he struggled vainly.

"No," Bobby said calmly.

"I hate you," Dean spat out as he stopped struggling.

"I know."

"I want him dead," Dean ground out as he started shaking badly and tears tripped over his cheeks.

"No you don't," Bobby said.

"He hurt Sam," Dean said as his fought for breath.

"Not him. A demon."

"I let it happen."

"No you didn't. If you had known you would have stopped it."

"I shot him," Dean said in a shaky voice. "I shot Dad."

"Yeah you did."

"H-he left me to die," he said the words barely whispered.

"Dean…"

"I'm expendable."

"Dean," Bobby said as he loosened his grip and turned the boy to face him. He held the teen's shoulders tightly and hadn't been ready for the broken pained expression in the youth's eyes.

"He left me to die like I didn't matter."

"You matter Dean," Bobby said strongly fighting back his tears. "Don't ever forget that son."

Dean's shaking increased and a sob escaped his throat. His head bowed, his chin hit his chest. Bobby pulled him against him as tightly as he dared and hoped it would be enough.

0000000000000

Sam drank down to the dregs of his hot chocolate. He pushed the mug aside and looked at Shadow. He petted her gently; aware of her wounds from the various fights around the yard in the last few hours or days. Things had run into one big blur and he wasn't sure what had only happened yesterday as opposed to two to three days ago. It was confusing to say the least.

Quite frankly he was feeling a little lost. Dean had pretty much been his constant solid thing throughout his life until now, until dad got possessed. He'd figured that out on his own, sure he'd tried to tell him, but aside from _um Dean have you noticed anything funny about dad lately_, he'd really not pushed it. What was the point? Dean had stopped listening to him anyway.

He'd wanted someone to talk to, anyone would have done, but it wasn't like he could walk up to a school councilor and say my dad's possessed and something's wrong with my big brother. Can you help with that?

Ok he'd considered it. Seriously considered it especially that morning when he'd been dragged into the councilor's office for falling asleep in class three days running. It wasn't his fault really. Socials was boring, he knew it all anyway from two schools previous and the teacher spoke in a monotone. Half the class fell asleep.

He'd even thought about how it could go.

_Sure I'd like to talk how I'm feeling. You see my dad? He's a hunter. Oh no not deer or anything like that. He hunts monsters. You know – Wendigos, black dogs, the monster under the bed, things like that. He salts and burns old bones so spirits that are haunting homes and stuff get put to rest. And my big brother? Well he got hurt a while ago. Bad hurt. I thought he was going to die, but he didn't. Now he's really mad all the time and acts like I don't even exist. But don't worry about it. We'll be gone in two days and onto the next job so you don't even have to write this down. I'll be gone before you can ever figure out what my real name is or what to do with me._

Yeah like that would go over well.

"Sammy?"

The boy's head whipped up and saw his father standing there. He was pale, his hair tussled from sleep. His eyes were red and puffy as if he had been crying.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise, his heart thumped painfully in his chest once before he looked away just as quick.

Shadow growled next to him.

"Y-yeah?" He said not able to keep the tremor out of his voice.

John's face took on a look of sad realization. "It's true then. It wasn't just a nightmare. I hurt you."

Sam brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "It wasn't you. I knew… know that," he said softly.

John stepped back and leaned on the railing. He looked over the salvage yard. Everything was still fuzzy but he could remember the nightmare, the sound of leather on skin, his son's cries of pain, of him trying desperately to get control of his body to stop. It was a nightmare of being locked inside himself and not being able to stop from hurting his youngest child. He rubbed a hand over his face. "Sammy…"

"It wasn't you, ok?" Sammy said strongly even though he felt sick. He took a shaky breath. "I-I know that."

"You do?" John asked. He wanted to comfort his son, but he knew he couldn't go anywhere near him. Even this was far too close.

"Well yeah," Sam replied his eyes darting to the side of the house as far as he could see but he couldn't find what he was looking for. "It was so not you. The way you did things was wrong. The way you talked was wrong. All of it was just … wrong."

John sighed heavily. The softly spoken words brought a small amount of relief, but his boy couldn't even look at him. Which probably explained why Dean had shot him and he was probably lucky he wasn't dead. If his nightmare was anything to go by he was lucky his oldest son hadn't killed him.

"I'm sorry it took so long to fix it. And I'm even sorrier but please don't be right here," Sam whispered as his body began to shake and a tear slipped down his cheek. He desperately wanted Dean, why was Uncle Bobby taking so long?

John looked down at the porch deck. He couldn't leave. He had to find a way to fix this. There had to be a way to come back from this somehow.

"Don't leave but please don't be right here. Dad, p-please?" Sam whispered before tucked his legs up even tighter against his small frame.

It took a moment for John to realize what his baby boy was asking. Sam didn't want to be alone with him but he didn't want him gone. "Ok Sam," he said softly. He felt a slight relief that his son didn't want to shut him out completely, but it hurt him to know he was seen as a threat. Slowly he turned and went back into the house.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story. I've updated since getting it back so any mistakes are from me.

My apologies on the delay in posting this chapter. RL has not been fun for a while and has been even more so over the last two weeks. While I work out a lot of stuff the posting may be a little late. The story is finished it's just getting my head to focus on the story long enough to make any necessary tweaking it needs. Thank you for your patience.

**This chapter's warnings**: May be a few swear words but I may have taken them out.

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 13

John sat precariously balanced on the edge of the broken bed, his elbows on his knees, his head resting in his hands. He was exhausted, but fighting against the strong pull of sleep.

He supposed he should be grateful he was at Bobby's instead of some no-tell motel in the middle of nowhere. The boys had at least gotten to someone who had helped them. How they'd managed to get here he couldn't puzzle out, but by the look of Dean had to be something to do with a hunt. Kid looked absolutely wrecked by the amount of wounds that he could make out on him before he got shot. There was no way his oldest should have been around weapons just by judging him on how he looked. He looked exhausted, worn out and just wary of everything around him. Or maybe he was distrustful of his old man, at this point he just didn't really know.

He'd find out about that when he spoke to his oldest. Or he hoped Dean would speak to him. He just wished he knew what had gone on before so he knew how to help his children.

Aside from his nightmare which was vague at best with blurry images and mostly horrific sounds, he knew he'd hurt Sammy. He started shaking as he remembered the sound of his youngest son's cries of pain and wondered if there was any way to fix the things that had happened while he'd been possessed.

Fear shot through him as John suddenly remembered a growling voice in his own head and him struggling against it and the words it used. He could remember hearing the demon thinking in his head in a version of extremely old Latin he could barely understand, even as he fought back against the demon that was using him. He would fight himself into unconsciousness or battle against it until he was knocked out by the demon. He sighed heavily and tried to force the fearful memory away.

As fuzzy as things were he tried to focus on his children making small bits and pieces come back to him. There wasn't much yet and he knew there'd be more. Since talking to Sammy he was trying to figure out what he remembered last. What he could recall made him embarrassed to call himself a hunter.

He'd just finished a salt and burn and had put in a call to Jim. They were never out of touch for long and he wanted to check in on his drive back to the motel. The priest had told him about a minor demon terrorizing an old friend of his and he couldn't get away from the church fast enough to look after it. It wasn't that far away from John was and he offered to look after it for him. And, in all honesty, it shouldn't have been that difficult. He'd handled more difficult jobs with injuries and dispatched them in half the time with less effort.

The thing had spewed lies and filth about how his youngest son wasn't his, a spawn of hell itself. It distracted him, hurt him and angered him. Truthfully, it pissed him off that he allowed the demon to get to him. It had gone on for hours before it he had finally been able to take care of it, but by then the words had been clearly burned into his brain. Not that he believed any of it, he just couldn't stop hearing the words.

Demons lied. It was common knowledge. But part of his mind, the one that had gone completely hunter, like it had turned when he was a soldier, couldn't help but pick at it and think about it. He couldn't figure out what had happened what they'd done after that but they must have continued hunting. He'd screwed up. There was no other explanation. He had left himself open to possession and something had taken the opportunity to take up residence.

Tiredly, he rubbed a hand over his face. The nightmare was bad enough and it sickened him what he had done to Sammy. He had no idea how long he'd been out of action or what had happened to his children while he'd not been himself. The only thing he knew for sure was he couldn't be alone with youngest son. Not right now, not for a while. Hell, maybe not ever. He never wanted to be the reason for that look on his baby's face ever again. That thought alone made his chest ache with sadness, but it made him wonder what he had done to his oldest son.

With a shaky breath he got up and paced his room a few times. As much as he wanted to check on his children he just couldn't bring himself to leave his room.

0000000000000

Dean mumbled a few words as he walked towards his little brother. Shadow raced over to greet him and he crouched down to give her a gentle petting.

"Dean?" Sammy said softly, slowly getting up.

Dean glanced over at him. His face was pale; his eyes were red and puffy. "What Sammy?" he asked his voice low and somewhat hoarse.

"Everything ok? I mean with Uncle Bobby?" he asked as he looked at his brother nervously.

"Yeah man Bobby's cool," Dean assured as he straightened up. "Ready to go back inside?"

Sam shook his head slightly and looked down.

Dean sighed and stood next to his brother mirroring his position leaning against the side of the house. "Something happen? Did dad come out?" he asked softly.

Sammy nodded. "He didn't do anything," he said quickly, not wanting his older brother to get the wrong idea.

Dean nodded as he shifted a bit closer and put an arm around his brother. "So what happened?"

"Nothing," Sam said.

"Hey," Dean said softly and waited for his little brother to look up at him. "I'm sorry you had to carry this all on your own for so long, but you're not alone now. I don't want you to ever feel like you can't come to me about anything again, ok?"

Sam nodded.

"Good," Dean said, giving him a slight smile. "Now whatever happened, no matter what it was, I want to you tell me, ok? If you're afraid I'll get upset I won't. Just tell me."

The youngest Winchester pursed his lips for a minute then nodded again. "He said he had a nightmare. When I couldn't look at him he said it was true. He didn't tell me what it was about, but I figured he remembered punishing me. I told him I knew it wasn't him."

Dean was quiet for a moment. "He probably doesn't remember much right now, Sammy. Dad probably doesn't know why we are so upset. He's got an idea from the nightmare but he doesn't know how long this has gone on for. The demon might have locked him away completely or he might have gotten bits of what was happening."

"I think he might need time," Sam said.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You do, huh?"

"Yeah. While he remembers or whatever can we still be here?" Sam asked quietly. "I feel safe here."

"We can be where ever you want to be Little Man," Dean said and frowned slightly. "You're awfully calm about this."

Sam shrugged. "He seemed a little out of it, and you left me with protection."

Dean chuckled out a breath. "Shadow. Supermutt to the rescue."

Hearing her name she perked up from where she was laying on the porch. She tilted her head at them, before yawning and putting her head down on her paws.

"Yeah. And the gun," he said.

"True and hand it over," Dean said, holding out his broken hand. He slipped it into the small of his back and faced his brother. "There's something else."

"I don't think so," Sammy said.

"Dude, what did I just say about telling me stuff. I can see it written all over your face," Dean said seriously. "Something else is bugging you."

"It's stupid."

"How about you tell me and I'll tell you if it's stupid or not," Dean said.

"I was scared," Sam whispered. "I didn't know what to do. What if he had done something?"

Dean sighed. "You weren't alone buddy."

"I know but …," Sam let out a puff of breath. "See, this is stupid!"

Dean shook his head. "Light years away from stupid and after the last few months you'd be stupid to not be scared when you are alone with him."

"You wouldn't have been," Sammy replied quietly.

"I'm so angry with him Sam I'm surprised I didn't kill him earlier," Dean admitted.

"I thought you'd missed."

"Man, I never miss," Dean said as he reached forward and gently ruffled the long locks of hair, mindful of the tender wounds on his scalp from the last hunt.

"Hey!"

He wrapped his good arm around him and pulled him into a gentle hug careful to not aggravate the wounds on Sammy's back. He could feel his little brother shake and wished Bobby could have waited to make him have his little break down. "How about I promise you won't be alone with him until you're ready?"

"What if I'm never ready?" Sam whispered into his chest.

"You will be," Dean said. "It's hard, Sammy, but it's still dad."

"Exactly," Sammy said as he pushed slightly and sniffed loudly.

"Exactly what?" Dean asked as he let him step back.

"It was dad that hit me too, even though he wasn't in control it still looked and talked like dad. It _was_ dad," he said simply.

"But you said," Dean said with a frown.

"Sometimes I couldn't tell!" Sam burst out his eyes bright with unshed tears and his arms flailed out. "Sometimes it felt like dad was really there, in the flesh and not possessed and other times it was him but someone else was driving the bus. He was the same with you, just normal. Just dad. But he was different when you weren't in the room or when you had gone out. You never saw it! You had no way of knowing what he did because he didn't change around you. I couldn't figure it out. Why he only changed around me. Why he only hit me. Am I that bad, Dean?"

"Sammy," Dean said as his throat seemed to close up at the amount of pain on his little brother's face. "No. You're not bad. You've done nothing wrong. In fact you've done everything right. You did everything you could think of to get us out of this mess. I'm proud of how you've handled this. I just wish I could have been there for you."

"I know it's stupid but please don't leave me alone," Sam pleaded as he looked up at his brother. Almost as if he wouldn't allow himself to hear the words of praise. "If it starts again, I don't know what I'll do. He only hit me when you weren't around. Don't leave me alone, Dean please."

"I'm not gonna leave you alone and Bobby's sure the demon's gone, so it won't start again," Dean said as he stepped forward and pulled his brother into another hug. It had to be the day for chick flick moments, but for the life of him he just didn't care. "It's gonna be ok. You'll see."

"What if it isn't?" Sammy asked into his shoulder. "What if I screwed it up like before? What if a piece of the demon is still in there just waiting to come at me?"

They both jumped as Bobby cleared his throat. "Sam, your father is no longer possessed. I did more spells over him after we were done. If he were still possessed he would still be sleeping."

"Hear that? Dad's back to being Dad. So everything will be fine," Dean answered giving Bobby a heartfelt nod of thanks. "We just need time, Sammy. That's all."

Feeling like he was intruding Bobby cleared his throat once again. "Your father's asleep. Thought you'd want to know. He's gonna be in and out like that for the next several days. Boys he may not even realize what's happened."

"We know that Uncle Bobby," Dean said.

"All I'm saying is cut him a little slack here," he said. "What's been done is inexcusable to both of you but you need to keep in mind that it wasn't him."

"Will he remember?" Sam asked as he shifted so that he could see Bobby but still leaned against his brother.

"Probably but maybe not everything," he answered.

"I think we need to make sure Sam's not alone. Dad talked to him while we were in your workshop," Dean said, adjusting his stance so that his forearms rested lightly on his brother's shoulders.

"Nothing happened," Sam said quickly as he looked down at his shoes.

"That's a delicate line, but yeah it's a good idea for now. Dean, you need to promise me that you're not going to shoot him again," Bobby said.

"Don't ask me to promise you that, Bobby," Dean answered as his face hardened.

"How sure are you, Uncle Bobby?" Sammy asked.

"That it's your Daddy and only you're Daddy in there?" Bobby asked and Sam nodded. "'Bout ninety-nine percent sure."

Sam shifted his head sideways and looked up at his brother. "You don't have to shoot him you know. There are alternatives," he whispered just loud enough for his brother to hear him.

Dean's eyebrows went up as far as they could go as he looked down at his brother. It only took a second for the grin to appear and he looked over at his uncle. "Ok. I promise not to shoot dad," he said easily.

Bobby scowled as he stomped over to them. "Hand over the gun, Dean."

Dean scowled at him right back and noted how Sam tried to back into him when Bobby started towards them. "Ok. Ok. Jeez," he said leaving one arm on Sam's shoulders and awkwardly pulled the gun out from the small of his back.

The older hunter took the gun and shook his head. "Safety's off, Dean," he said then looked at the teen.

Dean paled slightly but didn't say anything.

"You're better around weapons than that," Bobby said in a soft even tone. He was a little angry at the rookie mistake the kid had just made but it worried him more knowing how safety conscious the older teen was around weapons. Had the kid been up to form this would have never happened. He saw Dean's eyes widen in surprise before they clenched shut for a second and knew the kid understood. "I'm not gonna lecture you about gun safety, because I know you know better. I know you're fully aware of how bad this could've gone for you or your brother. So just do me a favour and leave the guns alone for now?"

"Ok Uncle Bobby," Dean said just above a whisper as he wrapped his other arm around his little brother. "Ok."


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for betaing this story. I've updated since getting it back so any mistakes are from me.

**This chapter's warnings**: Couple of swear words.

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 14

Over the next few days, the boys avoided their father and John barely came out of his room. There was enough tension in the house that Shadow stuck next to Dean like glue and jumped when either John or Bobby came into view.

On the fifth day after he'd performed the ritual, Sam walked into the house to get a drink and almost walked into his father.

"Sam," John said softly and sat down at the kitchen table.

The youngest Winchester froze to the spot, staring at his father and began to shake.

"It's all right," John said, and when his youngest son didn't move or say anything he sighed. "Would it be easier if I went into my room?"

"Yeah, it would but it wouldn't solve anything," Dean said from just inside the door. He walked around and stood in front of his little brother. "Look at me."

Sam continued to stare at his father.

Dean shifted slightly so that he stood in the visual path between Sam and their father. "Sammy, look at me."

It took a few moments but Sam finally turned his face slightly and looked up at his big brother. His eyes were wide with fear. "Dean?"

Dean placed a hand on his brother's chest just above his heart. "You need to calm down, buddy. Right now," he said calmly.

Sam shook his head.

"Nothing is going to happen to you. I'm right here. You're safe," Dean said and moved his hand to his shoulder. "Deepen your breathing."

"But Dean," Sam said, his breaths still speeding up.

"Deepen your breathing. You're breathing too fast. Deepen your breathing and try to relax a bit," Dean insisted and crouched down so his brother was looking directly at him instead of up at him. He took Sammy's smaller hand and placed it on his own chest. "Match my breaths."

It took a moment but Sam dropped his eyes to where his hand rested and concentrated on his breathing. It was only the beginning of a panic attack, but there had been several over the last few days. Dean had been the only one to get him to calm down.

When Sam was back under control or something Dean patted him on his shoulder. "Good job," he said softly.

Sam shook his head sadly and looked away.

"Hey, it was," Dean said and waited for his brother took at him again. "It didn't take as long that time to calm down. Good job, buddy."

Sam nodded and looked over Dean's shoulder to where his father was still sitting at the table.

"Come on," Dean said as he stood up and looked over at his father.

"I… I…," Sam said, then bit hard on his lower lip and looked at the floor.

"I have some things to do in my room," John said softly as he stood up.

"No," Dean said, slightly apprehensive.

"Excuse me?" John said.

"Pretty soon we're all gonna be stuck for hours in a car. How's that gonna go if we can't be in a big room together?" Dean asked, looking to his Dad to understand and to help him out.

"All right son," John said guardedly.

"Sammy, we're just gonna sit and hang out with dad for a bit. If it gets too hard we can walk away, ok? But we have to try," Dean said.

Still looking down at the floor Sam shook his head.

"Now we talked about this," Dean said firmly. It was almost as if Sam had regressed to a younger age over the past few days. He looked to Dean for everything and seemed a little clingy all the time. Even though he'd endured everything quietly while John had been possessed, the boy couldn't even be in the same room with him now. The whole thing confused Dean, but the only thing he could think of to fix it was to get them back on track as a family. "You need to try, Sam."

Sam shifted and grabbed Dean's forearm before looking up at him. "You won't leave me alone?"

"Nope. Promised you I wouldn't didn't I?" Dean responded.

Sam nodded and allowed himself to be taken over to the table. He sat down, then when Dean sat, he got up and stood directly beside him. He kept his head down looking at the floor, one hand clenched into a fist and the other he brought to his mouth to chew on a fingernail.

Dean glanced at him. "S'all right, Sammy," he said softly as he gently pulled his hand away from his mouth then placed a hand on Sam's back as he looked at his father across the table.

John ran a hand over his face. "I'm glad you boys feel comfortable enough to spend a few moments with me."

"It wasn't you," Sam whispered as he stared at the floor. "It wasn't you."

Dean chewed on the inside of his lower lip and wondered who Sam was trying to convince.

"No, Sammy, it wasn't, but I'm sure it seemed like it was me," John said.

"He knows that dad," Dean said softly. "He's just having some trouble with it. But we have to find a way for you two to be in the same room together without him freaking out."

Sam shifted closer to his brother. "Dean," he whispered.

Dean rubbed his back slightly. "I haven't forgotten my promise. But you need to get used to the idea that it's ok to be around Dad and not freak out. I know what you went through buddy but you know he was possessed. Remember what he was like before then?"

Sam nodded.

"That's the person he is now," Dean said then looked over at his father.

"Sammy, I don't blame you for not wanting to be around me. I'm only getting vague images in my dreams but it must have been horrible for you," John said. "But I'm still your father. I hope at some point you can come to trust me again. Until then, I promise you that I won't hurt you. Those words may seem empty, especially after everything you've been through but they are true."

Sam couldn't speak but nodded. He didn't believe him but he could make it look like he did.

"And you, Dean? I still haven't figured out why you're so angry with me," John said.

Dean froze as he matched his father's gaze. He didn't want to talk about it. Sammy's was far bigger and more important issue that needed to be dealt with.

"We left him to die," Sam replied for him. "He almost did."

John frowned. Those memories had yet to surface. "What are you talking about?" he asked. His nightmares were plagued with Sam, but there had been nothing about Dean.

Dean shifted slightly in his chair and cleared his throat. "I got hurt and you left me in this house while you and Sam hunted. It wasn't all that safe. I couldn't lock it down and I got beat up."

"What?" John asked. "Someone beat you up?"

"Whole lotta someones beat him up," Bobby said as he walked into the kitchen and filled his mug with coffee. "You took Sam and left him in a broken down old house. No locks, furniture that was there was busted up, holes in the walls, it wasn't a pretty sight. Some town locals came in and beat him up. Dean already had injuries, which is why he wasn't with you two to begin with."

"Thanks for the Coles Notes version there, Uncle Bobby," Dean said dryly.

"Yeah, well anything else I can do to speed this up, you let me know," Bobby said as he walked out of the house.

"Dean, fill in some blanks here," John said.

"It was just a bad case of blood poisoning," Dean said with a shake of his head. "Turned out ok."

"He was on a machine to breathe," Sam whispered.

A picture so vivid of Dean on a hospital bed on a ventilator flashed behind his eyelids made John shudder. He shook his head twice then slowly got to his feet.

Dean froze where he sat and Sam tried to shift even closer even though there was no way to get any closer than he already was.

"I have things to do," John said hoarsely as he took a wide berth around the table and his children so he could get to the door and left the house.

Dean glanced at his brother. "See, not so bad?" he asked weakly with an equally weak smile.

Sam looked unhappily at him.

"Yeah, ok, awkward," Dean said as he looked away then stood up. "Come on. I'll make you something to drink."

"I can make it," Sam mumbled.

"Oh, you can?" Dean said with mockingly. "Cause I was under the impression you'd forgotten how."

Sam shrugged then gave him a slight smile. "Just tastes better when you make it."

"Uh huh."

"No, really. Well, that and I can't reach where Bobby puts it," Sam said with a slight blush.

0000000000000

John burst into Bobby's workshop.

"Something I can do for you, John?" Bobby asked as he measured out the proper amount of shot into the scale.

"I can't do this," John said as he began to pace from one end of the room to the other.

"Can't do what?" Bobby said as he sat up and took a drink of his coffee.

"My children should never, and I mean never, be afraid of me. They should have a healthy respect for what we hunt, Bobby. That's all they should fear. I would never hurt them. I'm not him. I'm not!"

"Your father?" Bobby asked. And when exactly had he become the Winchester family shrink anyway? "John, we've been through a lot."

John snorted.

"You've told me stories of your father that made my toes curl. Whatever happened while you were possessed it was never what he did to you. You are not him. Don't think that for even a moment. Also, possession means it wasn't you, you moron," Bobby said. "That in no means takes away from what those boys have been through."

John stopped pacing and leaned against the workbench. "Bobby, I don't think…"

"If you think for one second that you're walking away right now you are sadly mistaken. I will hunt your sorry ass down if it's the last thing I do," Bobby snarked as he slammed his coffee mug down.

"It would be for the best."

"For who? Certainly not those kids, and sure as hell not you," Singer snapped, then sighed as he reigned in his anger. "Look give them some time, John. This has gone on for months. You can't expect either of them to just snap out of it and be ok just like that. It's going to take time. You need to allow for it."

John sighed and sagged as he ran a hand down his face. "My children," he whispered.

"Yes they are and they will come back from this. So can you," Bobby said.

Winchester shook his head and gazed out the small window.

"You've already lost Mary. You willing to lose your kids too?" Bobby asked.

"Hell no!" John yelled as he whirled towards his friend.

"Good," Bobby smiled at him. "And that's the first real glimpse I've seen of the man I know since you've arrived."

John frowned and looked away. "It's like they're damaged, Bobby. How do I get them back from this? How do I get them to trust me again?"

"Strangely enough if you asked Dean to do something right now I believe he'd do it for you. It's Sam you need to worry about. Kid's about ready to bolt and without Dean here I think he might have tried already," Bobby answered.

"So what do I do?" John asked.

"To get him back? That I don't know but try setting up a daily routine. Something you would've done a year ago. Morning calisthenics, hell I'll give you a list of chores around the yard that they can do together. Get them away from just sitting on the porch or the TV every day. Get them active," Bobby suggested. "It may not help but it can't hurt."

"You're right. Couldn't hurt"

"Just don't separate them," Bobby cautioned.

John nodded. "Thanks," he mumbled before leaving the shop.

Bobby just stood there for a few minutes sipping his coffee. "Good lord, I must be going soft. Psychiatry. Five cents. Christ all mighty," he grumbled as he slammed down the cup and went back to making ammo.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for betaing this story. I've updated since getting it back so any mistakes are from me.

Thanks for your patience while this was reworked and made better. I hope it was worth the wait. I am working on the eplogue now. It will be up as soon as it's finished.

**This chapter's warnings**: There might be a couple of swear words.

Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 15

Dean jolted into full waking. He'd heard something and his hand automatically closed around the handle of the knife he'd put there after Bobby had taken away his gun. Automatically he looked to his little brother and was surprised to find him sleeping peacefully.

A noise from across the hall had him easing out of bed. His stomach churned as he took a step and he started as the cold floorboard under his feet gave a loud groan. Taking a steadying breath, he made his way as quietly as he could to the door of his father's room.

Glancing into the room, he could see his father clearly from the silvery light cast into the room from the full moon. His father had kicked his blankets off, his head was tossing back and forth on the pillow and his hands jerked as he reacted to the dream he was having.

"Nooooo," John ground out.

Dean swallowed heavily and took a deep breath. His father had few nightmares over the years but they didn't seem to last long and he always pulled himself out of them on his own. But as he watched, his father seemed to get more agitated the longer it went on. Just like his brother, he knew if he didn't step in now John would be screaming the house down.

He clenched his eyes shut for a moment. What if this was the demon returning? They'd all been vulnerable and open to possession. Granted he still had his amulet, Sammy wore one from Bobby but Dean didn't know if his father still wore the ones placed under his skin by Bobby. If he'd taken them out he would be susceptible to possession. Bobby's was always supposed to be safe, but he knew first hand that some of the protection had failed, there were chinks in the armour that spirits and demons could get through.

John let out a quiet sob. "No, Sammy. No, stop! My son," he ground out.

Dean took a step into the room at the raw pain in his father's voice. His heart pounded in his chest, he could hear his own heartbeat frantically beating in his ears, and he could feel the burn of tears in his eyes. "Dad, stop," he whispered and shook his head. The teen knew soft words wouldn't work. He had to get closer and talk to his father, calmly, gently for him to wake up.

"No. Stop. _Please," _John whimpered.

Dean felt himself moving and sitting next to his father on the bed. He put a hand on his shoulder, but as John moved, his hand pulled back. Swallowing heavily to stave off the tears that were about to fall, he took a firm hold on his father's hand.

"Dad, wake up," Dean said calmly but firmly. "It's ok, dad. Just wake up now."

John began to whimper. "Stop. Stop this now. Sammy… Sammy, run."

"Dad," Dean said, leaning forward as he gently slapped his father's face. He knew he risked getting hit that way but he couldn't stand to see his father going through this. He had to stop it, no matter how afraid he was.

John tried to move his head from the sting from the slap and then his whole body tried to roll away.

"Dad, you have to wake up! Now," Dean said urgently and fought the urge to run. "Wake up!"

John bolted up with a quiet cry. He tried to pull back from the figure sitting next to him.

"It's ok. It's me. It's Dean. We're safe. It's ok," Dean said not realizing he held on tighter to his father's hand. "It's ok."

John took a stuttering breath. "D-Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean sighed out, knowing his father was awake and not half asleep.

"Where are we?"

"Uncle Bobby's," he answered softly. "You were having a nightmare."

John nodded and just concentrated on breathing for a moment to get his racing heart to slow down. "It was so real," he whispered.

"I know, but you're safe now," Dean automatically murmured the same words he said to his little brother after a nightmare, around the tears he was desperately fighting back.

John turned to look at him. "Dean? Son?"

Dean clenched his jaw shut at the look of raw devastation on his father's face. "Yeah?" he whispered around the lump in his throat. He tensed as his father took his hand out of his and brought his hand up to his face. He fought against the instinct to pull away as his father gently wiped away a tear he hadn't even felt fall down his cheek.

"You ok, son?" John asked softly.

"Am I ok?" Dean whispered as he frowned and shook his head slightly. He clenched his jaw shut again as another tear left a trail down is cheek. "Dad… I…"

John swallowed heavily against his own tears and suddenly just grabbed his son and crushed him in a tight hug.

Dean flinched and froze for just a moment before he felt his own arms wrap around his father. He buried his face against John's shoulder as he couldn't seem to fight back the tears. For a moment, just that moment, it was just his father and everything else that had happened melted away. He could feel his father's chest hitch and immediately everything slammed back to focus. He froze again in his father's embrace.

This was his father the same man who had hurt Sammy, who had left Dean to die in a broken down home. With a shaky breath he pushed back out of his father's embrace. "You're ok now," Dean said softly but firmly.

John pulled back, and allowed his son to stand up. "Yeah. I'm ok now," he said the lie, not knowing how his son hadn't fled the room when he'd pulled him into the hug. God, what had he been thinking? He was already on shaky ground with his children, but for just a moment he needed that contact with his son. He needed to know he had only had a nightmare and that he was free of the demon that he'd been fighting against in his dream.

"I should check on Sammy," Dean whispered as he stared over his father's shoulder, suddenly not able to make eye contact with the man. "If you're ok?"

"Yeah. I'm ok now," John repeated. "Thank you, son."

Dean nodded jerkily and went back to his room. A slight smile teased his lips as he looked down at his little brother. Sammy had flipped from his back onto his stomach while he'd been gone. His arm was flung out where Dean had been sleeping and he was now on an angle across the bed.

This was normal. This he could handle.

"Hey, Sammy. It's just me. Gonna move you over just a bit, Little Man," he said softly and felt his heart rate slowly begin to settle.

Gently he got his brother moved over enough for him to get back into bed and settled on his side. As Sam murmured in his sleep Dean put a shaky hand on his little brother's back. "I'm here, Sammy," he whispered. He sighed softly as he willed his mind to stop racing so he could go back to sleep.

0000000000000

Bobby stood in the kitchen, hip against the counter, and watched them. They seemed relaxed, but he knew better. If the cartoon made a certain clap or slap noise or the any of the characters wailed both boys flinched. It was subtle, and anyone who didn't know the kids may have missed it, but Bobby knew them well, too well.

He'd watched the boy's avoid their father and watched John let them. It had gone on for too long. He'd tended the boy's physical wounds. They had healed up nicely. Sam would be left with a few small slivers of scars on his back. But at least the boy wouldn't see them on a daily basis.

Now that their physical wounds were almost completely healed, it was time to start tending the emotional wounds.

He walked into the living room and stood in front of the TV. He reached down with his hand as he watched the boys and turned it off. He was pleased that neither child protested; they knew him far too well for that.

"I need some help in the yard and you're just the man for the job, Sam," Bobby said softly.

The hunter watched the kids' reactions. Dean closed his eyes for a second as his lips pursed and his entire body tensed up. Sam looked nervously over at his brother then back to Bobby before a stubborn expression graced his young face.

"No," Sam said quietly.

Bobby almost smiled. There was no belligerence or attitude with the tone. It was just one small word carefully spoken so the fear that was plain in his eyes couldn't be heard. "No?" he repeated.

Sam glanced over to his brother on the other side of the couch. "Um, _w__e_ can help you, Uncle Bobby."

"Nope. I just need you, Sam."

"But," Sam said softly, looking between Bobby and Dean until he moved over to his big brother. He sat right next to him and looked up at him with wide eyes. "You promised," he whispered as he reached over and grabbed hold of his brother's arm.

Dean raised an eye brow at him. "Actually, I promised you wouldn't be alone, that Bobby or I would be with you. This would be one of those times Uncle Bobby would be with you instead of me."

Sam shook his head.

"Dude, it's _Bobby_," Dean said as he gave him a gentle shove.

"I don't wanna," Sam whispered.

"Oh for cryin' out loud," Dean said with a shake of his head. "That's it. You are not a five-year-old, Sam. You're thirteen. You know you're safe with Bobby. Now get your shoes on and help him out, willingly."

Bobby frowned at them. He knew Dean was on edge, especially after what he had heard last night between him and John. The hunter knew Sam had been driving him crazy, but the older boy usually had a way with his younger brother that didn't involve snapping at him. And by the sliver of tears Bobby could see in the younger teen's eyes, Sam hadn't been expecting it either.

"Dean, maybe," Bobby started.

"No," Dean said with a shake of his head. "I've let this go on for too long. He will help you, Bobby, and I want to know if he gives you any trouble out there."

"He's not going to give me any trouble, he knows better unlike you," Bobby shot back. "Just make sure you do what I expect you to do."

Dean sighed and nodded. "Yeah, as soon as you two are out of ear shot."

"Make sure, Dean. It's been too long for you, too," Bobby said softly as he watched Sam stand up from tying his shoes. "Come on out back if you feel like it after. I'm sure I can find something for you to do out there."

0000000000000

As they left Dean got a refill on is coffee. He watched as they disappeared into the maze of metal. He bit his lip and glanced down the hallway. Dad would be down there in his room, reading up on something or other. Bobby had a huge library upstairs and Dean knew after he and Sam went to bed, his father was up there taking more books to read through the day.

Glancing down into his coffee, he sat back down on the couch and flipped channels. Bobby didn't get many and it wasn't long until he'd actually been around all of them three times. Nothing was on, not that he was really looking. Anything was better than going down that hallway and confronting the one person that had made his life hell and his little brother's life even worse over the past several months. But Bobby was right, it had been too long and it needed to be done.

He downed the rest of his coffee, put the cup on the coffee table, and slowly made his way down the hall. He went back to the living room, picked up the mug and put it into the sink. He started down the hallway again. He turned back and took Sam's breakfast plate and cup into the sink as well, then went to the hallway again. He used the bathroom, went back into the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee. He put the dishes into the dishwasher. As he stared at the dark brew beginning to fill the pot he shook his head.

"God, you are being such a girl," he murmured before he straightened up and headed towards his father's room.

He stopped at the open door way and watched his father for a minute. John was sitting on his bed, his back against the wall, and a book in his lap. He looked relaxed, calm. Dean hadn't seen him look like that in ages and felt a slight bit of his tension drain away.

"Took you long enough," John said, not looking up. "Thought I was going to come out to you."

Dean frowned and felt himself tense up again.

"You have got to be the loudest pacer I've ever known," John said as he closed the book and looked up at his son with a slight smile.

"Um.. Can I… Uh..." Dean suddenly felt his mouth go bone dry.

John waited for his son to say something, but when nothing really came out he just smiled at him. "You want to talk, son?" he asked.

Dean nodded.

"All right," he answered.

Dean looked down at the floor then slipped back so he could glance up the hallway towards the front door.

"How about over coffee?" John suggested. "I could use a cup."

Dean nodded again and was in the living room before John could get off his bed. By the time John made it to the table, his son was sitting there with two cups of coffee and a tray of Oreo cookies in the middle. It looked like the proverbial line in the sand. John was sure that if he crossed it Dean would be spooked enough to be out of the house.

"Little early for cookies?" John drawled as he took one and shoved the entire thing in his mouth.

"Nah," Dean said easily. "Never too early for this."

John smiled around his mouthful and sat down. He watched his son twist apart the cookie, eat the cream, and then eat the two wafers separately. He'd been eating Oreos, or knockoffs when he couldn't afford them, with his sons for years. A fitting even ground if he ever saw one, until Dean sank one in his coffee to his fingers.

"Really? In your coffee?" John asked with a grimace.

"Better than fries in a chocolate milkshake," Dean said.

"Hey, that tastes good. You need to give that a try," John said, holding back a smile.

"No way. Fries need ketchup, vinegar or plum sauce. No question," Dean answered, beginning to relax a little again rehashing an old argument.

John just shook his head and grabbed another cookie.

Dean sighed and took a small bite of his own thoughtfully chewing. He took a sip of his coffee and took a breath. "I need to know."

"Ok," John said when his oldest child didn't elaborate. "What?"

Dean glanced up at his father before looking down at the worn tabletop. "What's the last thing you remember? I mean before you were possessed. I didn't think it wasn't important, but it kind of is."

John knew the question would come and already had an answer for him. It was how much to tell his oldest son, how much did he really need to know? He'd been struggling with the question since he'd remembered the last time he'd been in full and complete control of himself. It was the look on Dean's face that told him all he needed to know. He cleared his throat. "Things are still really hazy, son. The best I can figure is I was doing a favour for Pastor Jim. He asked me to check in on a friend of his who had been acting strangely, someone he couldn't get to fast enough."

"A possession?" Dean asked.

"Yes," John answered softly.

"But we handle those all the time. They're pretty routine usually," Dean said with a frown.

"Normally yes, they are," John answered and ran a hand over his face as he began to remember what actually happened that night. "Do you remember that salt and burn just outside of Joseph?"

"Yeah. You left Sammy and me in Joseph, Oregon, for about a week while you took care of a job. I wanted to go with you because you'd not been feeling well, but you wouldn't hear of it," Dean answered with a shrug. "You said it was a piece of cake when you picked us up."

John nodded. "I lied."

Dean nodded. "Ok. So it wasn't easy. Look I know you sugar coat it sometimes, especially for Sammy."

"No, Dean. It was more than that," John said very quietly then sighed and ran a hand over his face again. "It was stronger than I believed it would be. It spewed filth about Sammy and after hours I started listening to it."

"You listened to it?" Dean repeated as he raised an eyebrow. "Dad, demons lie, you said so yourself."

"I didn't listen on purpose but the words started getting through. It took almost three days," John said quietly.

"No way," Dean said with his eyes wide.

"It got through wards I had setup, got past spells, it was one of the strongest demons I've ever faced."

"But you beat it," Dean said with a nod.

"Yes but after … the words it spoke, I couldn't stop thinking about them. They ran in my head constantly. I dreamt about it when I slept," John said as he stared down into his coffee.

"You left yourself vulnerable and open to possession?" Dean asked quietly. "But you insist . . ."

"Damn it, I know what I insist!" John yelled suddenly furious as his fist slammed the table.

Dean stood up so fast his chair flew back and hit the floor behind him. He was one step away from the door before he heard his father speak again.

As suddenly as it appeared the anger was gone and so was his son. John buried his face in his hands. "Sorry," John whispered. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."

Dean stopped himself, lowered his shaking hand away from where it was reaching for the door and made himself turn around. The sight of his father looking that way made his throat close up and made him more determined to find a way to fix everything. He closed his eyes and cleared his throat. "That, uh, that doesn't tell me what you remember last."

John looked up in surprise that his son hadn't fled from the house. "No it doesn't," he said hoarsely.

"So that left you vulnerable, but it wasn't what got you possessed? What else do you remember?"

"We arrived in Tillamook, checked in to the Spaniard Inn and we headed out to investigate the house. After that everything is fuzzy," John answered.

"We were surprised," Dean said as he leaned back against the door. "Sammy got taken out by a bookcase almost as soon as we were inside. You and I got, or I thought we got the spirit. I found a lock of hair encased in glass next to a painting of a little girl. Broke the glass; burned the hair and all the flying stuff stopped. We thought we got the spirit. We got Sammy back to the motel room; he was out until the morning, a little banged up but otherwise ok."

John looked shook his head slightly. "I have no memory of that."

Dean nodded. "It probably took you while I was burning the hair. Probably wasn't even the right hair or something."

John drank down the last of his coffee. "There are moments after that, fuzzy where I felt like I was struggling for control. Things were confusing and I remember trying to fight just to breathe. I remember feeling like I was blacking out a lot," he tried to explain but shook his head when the words didn't seem to match how he actually felt or had gone through.

Dean watched him. He looked exhausted as if he hadn't slept at all. But to him it sounded as if his father had fleeting moments of control, maybe at first, and was losing the battle with the demon as it took hold. As he studied his father, and mulled over what had been said, his mind came to the conclusion he was hoping for. "You didn't leave me to die," Dean blurted out softly.

"No. Bobby told me what that place looked like. Jesus, Dean. We've had some desperate times and stayed in some deplorable places before, but we would have never stayed there if I had been me. And I sure as hell would never have left you there on your own without any way to defend yourself," John said gruffly.

At the pain in his father's voice and face Dean had to look away, feeling guilty and ashamed. But he hadn't known his father had been possessed at the time, he'd left him to die. "It's just everything in the last few months. You've never run us so hard. But it was you, to me, the entire time. You were just that much more focused than before. And we can't, dad. We can't continue like that. Sam and I… we're all cut up all over and we haven't had any time to heal properly. You... It… There didn't seem to be any real time to heal."

"You have it now," John said. "We're not hunting until you two are ready to get back on the road, physically and emotionally. I'll do whatever it takes, Dean."

Dean nodded but didn't really believe him. His father had told him stuff like that before. _We'll rest up after tonight. Just get through tonight._ He'd believe him. And they'd go right into the next hunt until every day, every minute just blurred into the next and nothing really seemed to matter. But it did matter because this was the truth. This was Dad, his true father, not some freakin' demon who'd taken control. His father cared and loved him, and his little brother. He cleared his throat. "What about you? Bobby said you were hurt more than we knew."

"Not much. Just some muscle strains," John answered.

"Bobby said couple of breaks," Dean said.

"Finger, just one, and it's not a big deal," he said sternly.

"It can be a big deal if you don't look after it. You taught me that," Dean said softly, trying hard not to flinch at the tone. "You didn't even splint it or tape it up."

"I didn't want to worry you two more than you already were."

Dean was quiet for a few moments. With a soft sigh he went into the kitchen, got the coffee pot and topped off their coffees. Then he went into the bathroom returning a moment later with the first aid kit. He swallowed heavily as he held out his hand.

"What?" John asked.

"It should be splinted or something and if the runes or amulet things haven't come out yet they probably should. You don't want an infection or blood poisoning. Trust me," Dean said and couldn't control the slight shiver that ran through his entire body. "Bobby said you haven'tt let him look after you for a few days and …"

"What?" John repeated as his son trailed off.

"It's just," Dean said then paused again. "You usually don't look after this stuff all that well, we do it for you. And it can't be easy with the memories of stuff you haven't done and…"

"Dean," John started to say.

"It's not easy for Sam and me but it's not your fault. We _know _that but…"

"It's not the same thing," John said evenly.

Dean chewed slightly on the inside of his lip. His heart was beating too fast, and he'd broken out in a light sweat. It was as if any minute he expected his father to turn into the horrible monster that had turned on his baby brother. "Maybe. But I can… I mean… Someone has to help you and I know you won't…"

John nodded and held out his hurt hand. "Ok, son. Ok," he said softly, cutting off his rambling son, knowing how difficult it was for him to talk to him let alone try to express how he was feeling.

Dean looked down for a second as he nodded and took a breath. "Ok," he mumbled as he put the med kit on the table.

0000000000000

"Hand me that socket wrench," Bobby demanded. His body looked like it had been swallowed up by the mostly crumpled up car.

Sam swallowed back a giggle as the man's fingers wiggled slightly in impatience. "What size?" he asked as he took the square end in two fingers and made the rest of it go round in circles.

"Probably 3/8."

Sam dug through the tool box, found the right size, affixed to the end of the socket wrench and placed it into Bobby's palm.

Bobby worked on the engine for a few moments before he swore softly. "Nope. Give me the ¾"

"Kay," Sam said as he dug around the toolbox again and came up with the right one. He took the tool back, removed the wrong size, put the right size on and put it back on Bobby's hand.

The hunter went back to working on the engine and finally got the piece off the engine. He tossed it out where it landed at Sam's feet and started working on another.

"So what happens with all this stuff?" Sam asked as he knelt down and put the foreign looking object into the box.

"What d'ya think happens?" Bobby demanded still under the hood, still working away.

"Well not all of the parts can be sold separately, right?" Sam asked softly. Really he was just making conversation; cars were Dean's department. He was kinda curious, but it hadn't really mattered enough to really ask before.

"I sell the rest for scrap by the ton," Bobby answered.

"Oh," Sam said.

"You want to talk about it?" Bobby asked and left it for a minute as he worked another piece off the engine of the totaled blue Firebird.

Sam's head whipped up suddenly as he stared at the man under the hood for a second before his head dropped down and he stared at the dry ground.

"You know you gotta start talking to him eventually," Bobby said and when he got no response to that he straightened up from under the hood. He grabbed a rag from his back pocket and wiped his grease-covered hands on it.

Sam was still scowling down at the box of car parts. "Why?" he whispered.

"Well, he's your father. Much as you may want to you can't shut him out of your life forever. Besides that, you've said it yourself. It wasn't him," Bobby said.

Sam shook his head.

Bobby stilled. "You holding out on us boy?"

The young teen frowned up at him. "No. I told you and Dean everything," he said very softly and blushed slightly.

"You sure about that?" He asked.

"Yes," Sam huffed.

Immediately Bobby knew he was lying. He grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him up onto a stack of four semi truck tires. The small squeak of surprise from Sam would have been comical if Bobby hadn't been so angry.

"God, what!" Sam exploded into Bobby's face.

Bobby stared at him forcing back the flash of anger. When he was calm enough he took a breath. "Tell me what you're holding back or so help me, kid," he nearly growled.

"Ok, ok," Sam said as his entire body slouched down. "I never tried to fight back."

"What?" Bobby asked a little confused.

"I just let him…" Sam said with a vague wave of his hand. "I never tried to defend myself."

"Uh-huh," Bobby said and scratched his cheek. "Why is it an issue?"

"Dean wouldn't have let…"

"Were not talking about Dean," Bobby said cutting off the boy. "I know you, Sam, and you're a smart boy. You would have never have taken him on so you would have done something, tried in your own way to defend yourself."

Sam shook his head.

"Dean would have defended himself with his fists that's true. But you are not your brother, thank God for small miracles," Bobby said and felt a little better when Sam smiled ever so slightly. "You would've tried in your own way."

Sam nodded slightly. "I talked to him at first when he started changing and he would listen to me. But one night, like a month or something later, things went really bad. Kinda like with the thought forms we just faced."

"Go on," Bobby prompted when Sam fell silent.

"He told Dean to get more supplies the next morning. When I asked him to stay Dean just told me to take it like a man and maybe dad'll go easy on me. Then he left," he sighed softly and shook his head slightly. "He didn't know what I was gonna get. He probably guessed laps and extra maintenance especially after my gun misfired."

"What happened?"

"Thirty lashes with his belt. One for each of Dean's stitches. He said he chose that wound cause Dean wouldn't have gotten hurt if my gun hadn't jammed," Sam whispered as he paled. "Next day I started thirty laps around each motel we were in for one week."

Bobby was silent as he watched the boy try to curl into himself. "Sam, you know this isn't going to happen anymore."

"You don't understand, Bobby. I didn't fight back because I kinda felt like I deserved it. Each time it, the demon it wasn't dad, hit me was like that. Dean or dad got hurt and the number of hits equaled their stitch count," Sam said as his fingers picked at a hole in his jeans. "They get hurt all the time protecting me on hunts. I'm not strong like them. I'm not fast like them, or a good of a shot like them."

"That's not true," Bobby said.

"Sam?" John said.

Both Bobby and Sam turned in surprise to see Dean and John standing nearby.

Sam watched his father with wide eyes and swallowed heavily. "H-hhow much… How…," he started to ask but couldn't get the words out.

"Enough," John said shakily.

Sam turned away and clenched his hands together tightly to keep them from shaking. He flinched as Dean's hand rested gently on his shoulder. "You weren't supposed to know," he whispered.

"It's ok, Sam," Dean said gently.

"No," he said and his breath hitched. "I deserved it. Every one. It was my fault. It said so. It explained why every time."

From a few feet away John took solace that his child was referencing the demon as 'it' and not dad. He started towards his sons when Dean sent him a glare that sent shivers down his back and made him stop dead in his tracks.

"Hey, look at me," Dean commanded softly and waited for his little brother's eyes to meet his own. "What are the rules on demons?"

Sam took a shaky breath. "They can be summoned with a pentagram and candles placed properly with the right incantations and spells. Rock salt won't really hurt them, but it can slow them down if you mix in the right herbs with the shot. They leave a sulphur stench or actual sulphur behind when they've been somewhere," he answered, calming slightly as he was back in his comfort zone of knowledge.

"That's right. What else?"

"Holy water hurts them and burns the bodies they're in bad. You can't really kill them. You have to exorcise them or you will kill the person they're in," Sam said in a shaky voice and shrugged with one shoulder. "We know lots about demons."

"The most important fact for today though, Sam? They lie," Dean said his voice easy, gentle and caring. "We all watch each other's backs on a hunt. Who gets punished when you get hurt?"

Sam shook his head and looked down.

Dean hooked a finger under his chin to make Sam look back up. "Nothing is worth this, Sam. Nothing you could ever do, in your entire life is worth getting hurt like this, no matter what anyone tells you."

"But," Sam whispered with tears brimming over his eyelids.

"Nothing, Sam. Not ever, you hear me?" Dean pressed hoarsely.

Sam nodded as the tears began to fall down his cheeks. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against his brother's shoulder. He felt his brother's arms wrap around him and he relaxed slightly. He sniffed and tried to stop crying but the tears just wouldn't ease. The demon had always added five lashes if he cried during his punishments and he shivered at the memory.

Dean swallowed heavily against the tears in his eyes and the burning in his throat. As his brother began to shake he slowly ran his hand up and down his back. He automatically spoke quietly, knowing the words themselves didn't matter as long as Sammy could hear him.

When the shaking and the tears had slowed, Dean looked over at his father. He gave him a slight nod, an invitation to approach, hoping the man would accept and his brother would be ok with it too.

Lulled into a feeling of peaceful safety that always came when Dean comforted him Sam felt momentary confusion when his big brother's arms tensed slightly around him. He could hear footsteps on the hard packed ground and he twisted slightly so he could see what his brother was seeing.

His heart stuttered with fear for a moment as he saw his father walking towards him. Sam sniffed as he sat up, keeping one hand on his brother's arm, part of him needing to keep a small bit of contact with his big brother to feel a bit more protected.

John stopped and stood next to his boys. He wasn't sure if he should be this close to either one of them yet.

Looking up into his father's eyes, Sam could see what he'd been missing for months, warmth, love and concern. The coldness that had resided there was gone. He took another shaky breath as new tears started and he found himself wrapping his arms around his father's neck, like he hadn't done since he was a very young child.

"Sammy," John whispered as he returned the hug gently.

Dean smiled and was surprised as John reached out and pulled him into the hug as well.

"I'm out of here," Bobby growled with a slight grin as he tossed his rag at the Firebird and walked towards the house.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for betaing this story. I've updated since getting it back so any mistakes are from me.

**Thank-you**: If you've left a review to any of the chapters and I have not responded I just wanted to say thank you for your support on this story. It has been darker than my normal writing so thanks for sticking along for the ride. For those who didn't login to make a comment thanks for taking the time to leave a review. And for the lurkers out there who have me on alert thanks for reading!

**Pending Sequel alert**: This is the end of this story but I am working on a sequel to this called Scar Tissue. It's a ways from being completed but I have made great progress on it over the last few days.

**This chapter's warnings**: There might be a couple of swear words.

**Shadows**

**By infinite shadow**

**Epilogue**

It took another three weeks of healing, training and general time before the Winchesters were ready to leave the safety of Singer Salvage.

John still spent most of his time reading up on demons and discussing them with Bobby. He tinkered under the hood, making sure his baby was in pristine condition for the road, but each of these things were easily put aside for his boys if they needed anything. He was surprised how easy it was to fall into the routine of working on the Impala with Dean, discussing the supernatural with Sam and having morning workouts again with both of his children.

Sam suffered from nightmares every night, but most of his wounds had healed up. The cut on his hand from the blood ritual seemed to start to seal over for a few days then with one unfortunate twist or flex the entire wound would re-open. Sam had kept it clean and wrapped then did his best to ignore it.

Dean's wounds were completely healed, but he kept a wary eye on his little brother. He was well aware of the nightly terrors his brother faced, and he'd borrowed one of Bobby's cars the day before they left and went into to town to get a little something he hoped would help out.

Dean glanced outside and could see his father leaning against the side of the Impala while chatting with Bobby. Both men were grinning before Bobby actually started laughing out loud. Dean shook his head as he glanced down the hall as he waited on his brother.

"Sammy! Sometime today!" he shouted.

Silently Sam appeared in the hallway with his duffle in his arms. "Sorry," he mumbled as he headed towards the door.

"Hold up, Shorty," Dean said as he wrapped his arm around his little brother's shoulder.

"Not short and aren't we leaving?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, dad's waiting on us. But first," Dean said as he pulled back slightly and took Sam's duffel out of his hands and dropped it to the floor.

"Hey!"

Dean smirked. "Oh, like there's anything breakable in there."

"Coulda been," Sam pouted.

Dean picked up a package from where he'd left it on the couch. He held it up for a second with a big grin, then held it out to his brother. His smile faded as Sam just stared up at him. "C'mon, Little Man. Take it," he said quietly.

Sam eyed the package for a second before he took it. With one last glance at his brother, he reached into the bag and pulled out a soft leather bound journal. "Wow," he breathed as his fingers brushed over the cover, then opened it. The front page had a circle of protection runes drawn in Dean's scrawl and in the middle of that in block letters it simply said "Sam's Journal." Tucked beside the lined note paper was a shiny silver pen.

"Do you like it?" Dean asked softly.

"Yeah. But why?" Sam asked.

"You can always come to me, you know that right?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

"Well, sometimes it might help to write stuff down, too. I know you're having nightmares and I thought it might help if you wrote them down. I had a dream journal when I was younger and it helped me a lot, so I thought it might do you some good too," Dean said, then put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Doesn't mean you stop coming to me with stuff or waking me up in the night if you need to. This is just something extra, you hear me?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, man."

Dean gave him a half grin then picked their duffels off the floor. "Ok, let's go."

Sam headed out just in front of him and at the base of the steps looked up at his brother. "Shotgun!"

Dean snorted out a quiet laugh as he watched his brother hurry to the car. "There's still room for you in the trunk, Sam," he said happily but he watched carefully as his father reached out and wrapped an arm around his little brother's shoulders to keep him out of the car. He hesitated as Sam froze for a second before his little brother against their father's side.

As he moved towards the back of the Impala, a large grin lit up his face. Mostly from the relief that things were as close to normal that they probably were ever going to be, at least for a while. He put both duffels into the trunk. Glancing around, Dean noticed that Bobby and his father were still engrossed in their conversation.

He reached into his duffel and pulled out the small bear he'd given to his little brother years ago at Christmas. Dean looked at the worn teddy bear and grinned slightly. The runes he'd re-drawn the night before were clear as day now on each of the bear paws. He slipped it into Sam's duffel and closed it up. Nodding to himself, he closed the trunk.

"Dean? You 'bout ready, son?" John asked as he glanced over at him.

"Yes, sir," Dean answered as he joined them at the side of the car. He shook Bobby's hand and smiled at him. "You'll be happy to see us gone."

Bobby shook his head and pulled him into a tight hug. "Idiot," he murmured.

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean whispered back, not surprised at the lump in his throat. He always hated leaving this place.

He pulled back and watched his younger brother awkwardly offer his hand Bobby. Frowning, he shook his head. That wasn't normal. He worried his lower lip between his teeth and watched Sammy's body language. Sam had one hand tucked into his t-shirt and he was fidgeting. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and was barely making eye contact with Bobby.

Dean shook his head. It was probably nothing to worry about. Sam had three nightmares last night and he was probably exhausted. The kid sometimes got wired on no sleep and didn't know what to do with his energy. But he'd be sure to keep an eye on him anyway. It was his job after all, he thought with a slight grin.

Bobby chuckled, took his hand and gave him a wink. "You take care of these two now. And I expect to hear from you at least twice a week. Right?"

"Yes, sir," Sam said seriously.

Bobby smiled down at him before he crouched down slightly. "Take care, Sam. You can call me anytime, remember that, ok?"

Sam nodded, pulled his hand away and got into the car.

Dean met Bobby's eyes and even though he shrugged, he was still frowning. It wasn't typical behavior but he felt like he had to say something. He mouthed _bad night_ to the man and Bobby nodded back at him.

"Take care, old man," John said as he walked around the car.

"Old man! I'm younger than you!" Bobby shot back.

"Yeah, but I look better," John replied with a huge grin on his face and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Dean crouched down and gave Shadow one last pet. "Too bad you can't come with us, girl," he whispered to her. But he knew they'd be back and he'd see her again.

"I'll let you talk to her the next time you call," Bobby said, still grinning.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean said dryly. "Bye, Bobby. We'll be in touch. Real soon. Promise."

"You'd better be, kid," he said as he turned and pulled Shadow back with him. "You'd better."

Dean nodded as he got into the Impala and the car purred to life. He felt something settle in him that he hadn't realized he'd been missing.

"Where are we going, dad?" Sam asked from the back seat.

"Why don't we see where the road takes us," John suggested as he got to the end of the driveway. He really had no plan, but felt like it was time to get back on the road. Maybe they'd find a decent motel somewhere and some fun along the way. "Left or right, boys?"

"Left," Sam said.

Dean grinned at his father and nodded.

"Sounds good to me," John said and he turned onto the road.

The End.


End file.
